Tommy Lupton

Tommy Lupton died Monday morning.

 

I started writing a note to myself while in a dark seminar room after I heard. I ended up giving the note to Beth, his wife, when I got all choked up at the visitation.

 

This will be my attempt to finish that letter, which I wanted not only to go to Tommy’s family, but to the whole community of people touched by Tommy Lupton. I especially want to share it with people like Yvonne Owenby, Tim Downey, Bob Corker, Red Parks, Hugh Huffaker, Bob Franklin, Don Curtis, and Lance Parker, just a few among many I could think of off the top of my head.

 

All of them, and many, many more were there to hear Boofie’s great letter to her Dad and to see his magnificent family. I was proud to be sitting there. I cried, but it was good, for Tommy’s life was being celebrated. He lived a life worth celebrating.

 

I heard a lot of people saying that we lost Tommy.

 

But I did not lose him. He is with me. He is around me, in the people he touched, and in the people he loved.

 

He lived a consequential and effective life.

 

His obituary listed all of the buildings he developed (he was a developer, wasn’t he? He was not a contractor, or an engineer, or an architect. He was a developer- the same thing to a building as an orchestra conductor is to music.)

 

But the relationships and people he nurtured, to me, will have a much more profound resonance in Chattanooga than will any of the places he made.

 

I was lucky enough to be one of the people Tommy took an interest in.

 

By the time Tommy was born, my grandfather had already watched his first business (a dairy farm) fail. But by the time Tommy was thirty, he and my Grandfather were already friends. Can you imagine- my Grandfather was 26 years older than Tommy, and they had become fast friends. Tommy called him a “mentor.”

 

My Grandfather always told me that he learned as much from Tommy as he thought Tommy learned from him. They had a mutual admiration society built on a close working relationship, lack of guile, and confidence in one another’s competence. Even though they were often competitors, their affection and respect for each other never wavered. Grandpa called Tommy an “icon.”

 

Tommy was one of four men to attain that position in my Grandfather’s life, and by far the youngest.

 

When my Uncle Doug got cancer, and soon died, Mr. Lupton became Tommy to me. Tommy had been close to my Uncle as well, and we had just finished grading and paving Heritage Landing. He always treated me with respect and warmth. Most importantly for a young man taking over an old business, he treated me as if there was no doubt in his mind I could do it.

 

I just can’t ever repay him for that.

 

I was one of the lucky few who not only got to do business with Tommy, but got to be with him at the Golf Club, at Stubbs, at Baylor, at the grandchildren’s ballgames. He was almost like an Uncle, a partner, a friend, a father- he just filled so many roles in my life I can’t think of anyone outside my family who even comes close.

 

This is one of my favorite photos because neither my Father Gilbert Stein nor my Grandfather Gilbert Stein ever got to see my son Gilbert. But Tommy did, and that means a lot to me, for some reason I just can’t express.

 

Tommy always greeted me: “Hello, old friend.”

 

He is truly, my friend. And he will be with me for the rest of my life.

 

With all the love I feel for my own family,

 

 

Doug Stein