Tom Lomax

News Obituary Article

ATLANTA: Tom Lomax, 60, did nails, counseling

By HOLLY CRENSHAW

Tom Lomax may have missed his calling.

"He was like a therapist," said his partner of 16 years, John Teems of Atlanta. "One of his clients was even a therapist who told Tom he should go back to school and become one."

Then again, Mr. Lomax may have been one of those rare souls who find their perfect place in the world.

For 32 years, that place was Felicity Hair Design, a Buckhead beauty salon where the manicurist/therapist was always in session.

While he buffed and polished nail after nail, Mr. Lomax listened and advised, encouraged and cajoled, and kept clients enthralled with his wisecracks and warmth.

"He certainly enjoyed doing nails, but it wasn't really about the nails --- it was the interaction with his clients," his partner said. "That's what Tom enjoyed most. Nails were a secondary thing."

Mr. Lomax told them what to wear and --- even more importantly --- what not to wear. He helped them do their colors, helped them book the right restaurant and helped them pick the right wallpaper. And like any good therapist, he listened --- through marriage and motherhood, death and divorce.

"And if someone told him something in confidence, he would not talk about it," his partner said. "Not even to me."

Tom E. Lomax, 60, of Atlanta died of cancer Aug. 23 at Hospice Atlanta. The body was cremated. A private memorial service is planned. Wages & Sons, Stone Mountain Chapel, is in charge of arrangements.

The Linden, Tenn., native moved to Atlanta in 1971, shortly after he earned an art history degree from Middle Tennessee State University. He worked at Saks Fifth Avenue and other department stores before he forged a fortuitous friendship with Sybil Lindsey of Atlanta.

"One of the best things that ever happened to me was meeting Tom," said Ms. Lindsey, who offered him his first job as a nail technician, then kept him at her salon for the next three decades.

"His clients loved him --- I mean, they really, really loved him," she said. "We all came to him with our problems, and he solved them, one way or another. People would sit in that manicure chair and feel like he was somebody they could talk to."

Mr. Lomax was the life of the party when he dined or vacationed in the mountains with his clients-turned-friends. His conversations were sprinkled with witty one-liners and tasteful observations.

He took oil painting lessons and learned to emulate the style of Old Masters.

He dined at fine restaurants in Buckhead and Virginia-Highland, drank vodka martinis straight up, watched classic movies and wore impeccable Italian clothes.

For Anne Bernstein of Atlanta, having her nails done by Mr. Lomax was like having a standing appointment with her best friend.

"He was my confidante," she said. "I talked to him about my family, my relationships, my hair, my diet and exercise attempts. And each week when I left, we'd kiss each other goodbye until the next week."

"I might walk in and he'd say, 'Why didn't you do your make-up today?' " she said. "Or he'd say, 'Your hair looks really wonderful today,' or 'That's a very good-looking purse,' and it would make me feel good because I trusted his judgment. I was flattered if he complimented me."

"My nails will never be the same, and every time I look at my hands, I think about him. Because for the past 30 years, my beautiful nails were just a small part of my visit."

Survivors include his sister, Betty Byrd of Old Hickory, Tenn.

© 2007 The Atlanta Journal-Constitution