Person:Alford Seale (1)

Served in Central Burma and India during WWII. Was awarded WWII VIctory Ribbon, Good Conduct Medal, American Theater Ribbon, AP Theater Ribbon, and two Bronze Service Stars.

Died of massive gastrointestinal hemorrhage at East Ridge Hospital. Buried at Hamilton Memorial Gardens, Hixson, Tennessee.

Written by Deborah Seale Hebert 17 February 1999 -- Memories of Alford Louis Seale III by Deborah Seale Hebert.

  "I had the best daddy anyone could have ever asked for.  I adored him and he made me feel like a princess every day of my life.  
  Daddy was the older of two boys.  His younger brother, Maurice, was hurt when a porch rocker overturned on him at an early age.  I've heard that my dad was jealous of all the attention Maurice got while he was recuperating.  Maurice had to have several operations and was ill most of his childhood years.
  He and his brother spent a lot of time with their grandmother, Jemima Seale McLaughlin, affectionately known as "Buz Bac."  When they were little boys, they tried to call her Miz Mc like everyone else but couldn't say it.
   Daddy grew up in rural Mississippi and like any boy his age, loved fishing, hunting and all things outdoorsy.  I remember him telling stories about losing his favorite gun in the swamp, about having a motorcycle accident and his mother putting turpentine on his scrapes, but my favorite story was about the black Arabian stallion.  His father had this horse imported from overseas.  The horse was really mean to everyone but their black hired hand, Rob, and my father and his brother.  Their father couldn't go near the horse for fear of his life.
  Their mother was a school teacher and later a school principal back in the days before most women worked outside the home.  The family had a pretty good country life until the Depression, during which they lost most everything they owned, including the black stallion.
  My father told me that he was sent to Catholic schools as a child.  He later attended the school that became Ole Miss but did not graduate.  He was working as a stock boy at a store when a terrible accident occurred.  He was picking up a case of bottled Coca-Cola when one of the caps flew off and hit him in the eye.  He lost most of the sight in his right eye at that time.  He later became interested in civil engineering and learned how to drive bulldozers, graders and other road-building equipment.
  When Daddy was in his early 20's, his mother died suddenly of a stroke.  He worked for a while in Brazil.  The he went into the Army and met my mother and after the war, lived in Hixson the rest of his life.
  Daddy worked for a number of construction companies over the years -- Stein Construction, Brown Brothers and finally for the Tennessee Valley Authority.  Although he was short and stout at 5'7" and 230 lbs., he was known far and wide as "Tiny" Seale.  He moved the first dirt at the Raccoon Mountain Pumped Storage Plant and also worked at Sequoyah Nuclear Plant during its construction.  Other places I remember him working were Widow's Creek Steam Plant in Alabama and Watt's Bar.  For many years, when work was slim, he would work out of town, leaving on Sunday night and returning on Friday night.
  I guess I get my love of animals from him for the most part.  Once, when he bulldozed down a tree and accidentally killed a mother possum, he brought all the baby possums home for me to see.  He hung them by their tails all on my arms and sent me inside to show Mother, knowing how much it would "get her goat."  It was so funny!  That was Daddy, always ready with a joke, always with a story to tell.
  My uncle "Hot" as Daddy called him lived in Mississippi and I couldn't wait to have him visit so I could listen to him and Daddy tell stories of their boyhood years.
  Daddy and I shared a love of horses and he bought me my first when I was four years old.   My mother was horrified!  One time, when I was a teenager, Mother got brave and decided she was going to sit on a very gentle horse we had named Dan. After a while, we finally got her in the saddle.  Poor mother, she was scared to death.  To make matters worse, Daddy came out on the back porch and started laughing at  her and then she got really mad.  I think he loved aggravating Mother almost as much as he loved eating and cooking.
  He was a GREAT cook!  Mother used to complain that he would dirty every single pan in the kitchen, but he certainly could turn out some tasty dishes.  My two favorites were his country-fried steak with gravy and his squirrel stew.  He hunted and fished all the time until he was older.  I think he would say he was going hunting just to have an excuse to walk in the woods.  He also loved guns, had about 20 when he died.  He wanted each of my boys to have a rifle, which Mother gave to them, and she kept a Smith & Wesson .03 snub-nose pistol for herself, which I still have.
  Daddy smoked cigarettes all of his life until he was in his late 50's.  After he managed to quit smoking, he started chewing tobacco, which Motherhated eve nmore than the smoking.  But I guess the damage to his circulatory system was already done, because he had a massive stroke just days before my birthday in August of 1978.  As a result, he had complete paralysis of his right side.  Having always been active and independent on everyone for help.  In the year that he lived afterwards, his weight plummeted to just barely 120 lbs.  He was never the same mentally again.  Always a fun-loving, jolly person, he became angry and cruel with my mother.  He could remember things from his childhood but not what he had for his last meal.
  After he had gone to live in the nursing home, he developed a stomach ulcer.  One night he was found in his room, hemorrhaging from his mouth.  He was rush to East Ridge Hospital.  For two days all efforts were made to stop the bleeding in vain.  Although they did not want to operate in his weakened condition, there was no other choice.  He regained consciousness somewhat after the surgery, kept telling me that "my belly hurts."  Mother and I went home to get ready to come back and spend the night.  Before we could leave the house, we got the call that he had died.  The nurse said that for some reason, his blood pressure had dropped dramatically and another hemorrhage was suspected.  He had lived a week and a year after his stroke.
  At his funeral, his coffin was draped with the American flag due to his being a veteran.  Pallbearers were friends of his from Local 917, Intl. Union of Operating Engineers.  He was also a member of the Hixson chapter of the Masonic Order, third degree.
  Other than his sense of humor, the thing I remember most about my father was his generosity.  He gave freely to those in need.  He worked hard all of his life to make a better life for his family and friends.