Frank McRae Jr.

Frank Edwin McRae, Jr.

DeKalb

Frank Edwin McRae, Jr. of DeKalb, Mississippi died Wednesday morning at UAB Hospital in Birmingham, Alabama, at the age of 76. He was what Southerners would refer to as "a character;" please allow us to explain.

He was the son of the late Frank Edwin McRae, Sr. and Mary Lanora (Hopper) McRae. Born in Electric Mills, Mississippi (a town that no longer exists) and raised in DeKalb, he was a red state man, writ large: he liked NASCAR and hot dogs, B.B. King and J.W. Dant (his bourbon of choice), SEC football and voting for Ronald Reagan. He was a redneck, and proud of it, but without the xenophobic mean streak normally associated with the word. Had he met Barack Obama in person - someone who stood for every political thing he stood against - he would have been kind, courteous and polite to the President, probably quizzing him about what kind of motor his limousine had (inwardly fretting about the fact that it was a Cadillac and not a Lincoln, as he was a Ford man), and would have asked him if he knew someone he met in a hotel lobby in Chicago 20 years ago, after being able to inexplicably recall the person's name. A diehard fan of the Mississippi State Bulldogs, perhaps the only class of people he viewed askance were those affiliated with the University of Mississippi (except for his oldest son, they were met with immediate suspicion and really had their work cut out for them).

A dry cleaner by trade, he was a member of DeKalb Presbyterian Church, literally from the cradle to the grave, and he raised his three sons to be Presbyterian, even if he probably misspelled "Presbyterian" on his checks. He taught his sons other things too, most of which would have bewildered John Calvin: if, while driving, you run off the shoulder of the road, don't jerk the wheel back to the left. Inspect a wealthy-acting suitor's shoes for red dirt stains (a sign of living in the country and, ergo, lesser means). If a skinny, mangy dog starts frequenting your dry-cleaning establishment, take your 7-year old son with you at night to feed it and give it medicine. Take your family to Disney World in a Ford (of course) Country Squire wagon even though you can't really afford it. Point to a waving American flag at a McDonald's restaurant in Meridian and ask your boys if they appreciate how many men have died defending that flag. At Christmas, load everybody up in the aforementioned Country Squire wagon to look at Christmas lights and belt out a Roger Whittaker tune at the top of your lungs ("all that I want is to know that you love me / and this will be my finest Chris-a-mas-TIME").

In August of 1966 he married Donna Preston (McLeary) McRae, who for the next 43 years would be the only thing stopping him from having a yard full of cars in various stages of repair. When Donna's last dachshund died shortly after she did, he buried it next to her (alarmed, this obituary's author asked him, "You buried the dog next to mama in the TOWN CEMETERY?" to which he replied "Yep. Right at her feet."). His love for Donna produced three tangible results: Andy McRae, John (Jennifer) McRae and Buddy (Angela) McRae, as well as four grandchildren, Collier, Anne Preston, Lauren and Shelby, who affectionately knew him as Gramps. He is also survived by his sister, Mary Margaret Grisaffe of Tulsa, Okla., whom he loved even though she married a Yankee (who he also eventually loved).

Later in life, he took up walking as a hobby, gradually becoming competitive at it at Mississippi Track Club events; his crowning achievement was successfully finishing the San Diego marathon, which he trained for by walking all the way to Scooba. And this to us was our daddy: a happy, easygoing, perpetual motion, and a knowledge that the race goes not to the swift, but to the steady. He has crossed his last finish line now, and is at rest in the presence of his Creator, reunited with his wife who will soon become annoyed to hear that Dale Earnhardt has been invited for supper yet again. Godspeed and goodbye, daddy.

Services will be Saturday, February 1, at 12 noon at the DeKalb Presbyterian Church in DeKalb with the Rev. John Branning officiating. Burial will follow in Pine Crest Cemetery. Visitation will be from 10 a.m. until noon at the church. Pallbearers will be George Grisaffe, Robert Grisaffe, Ray McLaurin, Jimmy Spinks, Louie Preston Spinks and Billy Vick .

Stephens Funeral Home of DeKalb is handling arrangements. Memorials may be made to DeKalb Presbyterian Church, 235 Church Street, DeKalb, Miss. 39328. Please be sure to spell "Presbyterian" correctly.