Dr. Matthew Walker III

Professor, mentor, intellect

In Nashville, great expectations have been connected to the name Matthew Walker through three successive generations. The Matthew Walker Comprehensive Health Center is named for Dr. Matthew Walker Sr., a prominent Black surgeon who worked to bring affordable health care to marginalized populations. Matthew Walker Jr. was a civil rights activist and Freedom Rider, one of the Black college students who in 1960 participated in the historic sit-ins that desegregated Nashville lunch counters.

Matthew Walker III, a product of public education in Nashville and the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, surpassed every expectation. He earned his doctorate in cardiovascular biophysics and pharmacology from Tulane School of Medicine, then completed his postdoctoral training in the Harvard-M.I.T. Division of Health Sciences and Technology. During his eight years at Merck Research Laboratories, he led a team of pharmacology and biomarker development imaging specialists in cardiovascular, diabetes, cancer and obesity-related drug discovery efforts, resulting in many medicine-related patents, including the co-development of the drugs Vytorin, Januvia and Candesartan.

Dr. Andre Churchwell, Vanderbilt University’s vice chancellor for equity, diversity and inclusion and a friend since the late 1980s, welcomed Walker back home in 2011. Walker became professor of the practice of biomedical engineering and associate professor of radiology and radiological sciences. In his decade at Vanderbilt, he created an innovative biomedical engineering design curriculum that leveraged connections between the Vanderbilt School of Engineering, the medical school and the biotechnology community, and served as the biomedical engineering department’s immersion coordinator. Walker was a mentor and role model for many of his students, tireless in promoting the urgent need for more diversity in medical school populations. His unexpected death at 56 years old resounded through the university, the community and the many fields he impacted. Nine distinguished colleagues and associates honored him at his memorial service at Benton Chapel on the Vanderbilt campus. 

“Matthew was a very unique person,” Churchwell tells the Scene. “He was very much a William F. Buckley Jr. disciple in the use of polysyllabic words when he was making a point. He was one of the most naturally curious people I have ever met in my life.” 

Walker is survived by wife Anna and his son — Matthew Walker IV. —Kay West

Dr. Sam Marney 

Allergist, doctors’ doctor

Dr. Sam Marney’s sister called him “the smartest person ever to leave Bristol.” At his college graduation, Marney’s math professor said he was sorry to see Sam attend medical school because “he was the smartest math student I ever had.” But even Marney must have been surprised at the journey that brought him to the top tier of academic allergy studies as an expert in anaphylaxis.

Before Marney’s career took an unexpected turn, Nashville, which is geographically a bowl and botanically full of pollen, had no proper allergy medicine, and no academic allergy department. Marney, having recently arrived from the University of Virginia college of medicine, joined Vanderbilt for his residency training, which was interrupted by two years’ service in the Air Force in Korea. He completed internal medicine and infectious diseases training, then spent a year in Oxford, U.K., researching hematology. He was working in infectious disease when he was asked to “babysit” the allergy clinic until a permanent leader could be recruited. Marney realized he liked the work and wanted to stay put in allergies. He again stepped away for more training, this time at Scripps Research Foundation in 1973 and 1974.

He and colleague Dr. John Oates took on the topic of anaphylaxis, the fearsome and rapid onset of sometimes-lethal reactions to allergens. Marney worked on the problem from an environmental side of the issue, while Oates worked the medical angle. They “collected” patients together and produced a scholarly publication together. Patients from all over the country came to Marney’s office for consultation and treatment in mast-cell activation syndrome, a rare allergic reaction that involves several body systems. In addition, Marney was an attending on general medicine and residents at the Nashville VA hospital for two months each year, helping cultivate and educate young doctors. Marney’s daughter Annis called him “a doctors’ doctor.” He also sang in the choir at West End United Methodist church for 50 years.

It would be omitting half the story not to mention his lifelong intellectual partner Betty Bingham Marney, who, like her husband, also collected degrees, accolades and careers. By 22, Elizabeth Bingham Marney had three degrees, was summa cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa. It set a pattern of learning and achievement that would continue throughout her life. She taught at Southern Methodist University, leaving for a Ph.D. at the University of Texas. She taught at Harpeth Hall for a decade beginning in 1975, then attended law school at Vanderbilt. She practiced law first at King and Ballow, working on First Amendment matters, and was counsel for the Nashville Banner, where she wrote a brief and attended a case before the U.S. Supreme Court. (She and the paper won the case).

She finished her career in the Criminal Appellate Division of the Tennessee Attorney General’s office. On her last day, in 2008, she put her law degree in the office trash, where it was retrieved by a colleague who had always wanted a Vanderbilt law degree. She went shopping on the day she died, in 2020. —Nicki Pendleton Wood

Shayne Parker 

Vintage dealer, friend 

Shayne Parker, owner of vintage retail shop Dead People’s Things, died on Sept. 15. He was 35 years old. Parker was a longtime seller at the Nashville Flea Market, well-known for his Dead People’s Things camper, which often caught the eye of folks who wandered over just to chat. Parker’s friend John Baker, a fellow vintage and antiques dealer, helped convince him to open his brick-and-mortar shops in Millersville and Goodlettsville.

“We met at the flea market, and he was just such a funny and smart guy,” Baker says. “He had kind of a gruff exterior, but anyone who became his friend was his friend for life. He would just do anything for you.”

Parker, who was from White House, gravitated toward all things dark: He liked skulls, swords and occult items. He was vaccinated against COVID-19, but died roughly a week after recovering from the illness. He had previously suffered some health problems, including seizures, before contracting the virus.

“At first he loved the old bottles,” Parker’s sister Kelley Nelson says. “He knew about history, and loved to tell you random facts. He didn’t do well in school because he didn’t give a shit, but he was really smart.”

Parker took on many jobs in his short lifetime: He got a certificate for welding. He drove an 18-wheeler for a while. He worked on airplanes, installed cable TV and learned to tattoo. But he loved nothing more than running his shop. “Shayne was very genuine,” Nelson says. “I felt he had the rare capability to understand anyone, to be open-minded.” —Amanda Haggard 

Marc Boyer

Community leader, hugger

Teddy bears aren’t supposed to sweat. In fact, I’m probably not supposed to refer to people as reminiscent of teddy bears. But I can’t help it in the case of Marc Boyer. Marc was generous with hugs. The way I know that is that he was courageous for his community — he lived in Andrew Jackson Courts, where he served as a resident association president for MDHA.

As far as I can tell, our first correspondence was when he invited me to a Christmas event. From the moment we met in person, Marc was never shy with me, nor was he shy later with my campaign staff. He let me know where we needed traffic calming and when the power was out, which was far too often. Marc had a sense of justice and accountability but translated these effectively to real-world needs that we could address together. And so Marc was one of the first people I thought of to be part of the North Nashville participatory budgeting pilot. I got legitimately concerned when neither the mayor’s office nor I could get a hold of him last winter.

And that’s when I discovered that this big presence in his community had died in January. I don’t even really know how to explain the uncomfortable hole that’s left when someone you’ve forged a bond with and collaborated with and worked to support goes missing in your life and in the community. Marc deserves a memorial more profound than this little and late remembrance for the ways in which he stood up for people — people he knew might not raise their hands or their voices themselves. Quiet, anonymous memorials stand where improvements he sought will make his neighborhood safer for years to come. But his name and hugs are worth remembering. —District 19 Councilmember Freddie O’Connell

Clifton Meador

Professor of medicine, health care executive

Clifton Meador first came to Nashville in 1948 at age 16 to earn his undergraduate degree at Vanderbilt University. He went on to graduate from Vanderbilt School of Medicine with the Founders Medal in 1959, completing his residency at Vanderbilt University Medical Center after serving as a captain in the U.S. Army Medical Corps from 1957 to 1959. 

He began practicing medicine in Selma, Ala., and joined the University of Alabama College of Medicine in Birmingham as an assistant professor of medicine and director of the National Institutes of Health Clinical Research Center in 1962, then later became the dean. The next year, he became a Markle Scholar in academic medicine and was a fellow in nuclear medicine at Harvard’s Peter Bent Brigham Hospital and at Oak Ridge National Laboratories in East Tennessee. By 1973, he returned to Nashville to join the faculty at Vanderbilt and create a medical residency program at Saint Thomas Hospital (as it was called at the time). He served as chief of medicine at Saint Thomas, then chief medical officer, a role he held until 1998. 

In 1999, he became the first executive director of the Meharry-Vanderbilt Alliance and served as a professor of medicine at Meharry Medical College and Vanderbilt School of Medicine until 2012. According to Virginia Fuqua-Meadows, administrative director for the alliance and a longtime colleague of Meador: “He was a talented, compassionate physician, author and mentor. Dr. Meador made an impact on many lives and made everyone feel good about themselves. His stories, Southern charm and contagious laugh will be forever missed.”

During his tenure — and even into retirement — Meador was a prolific writer. He authored 14 books and more than 50 medical papers, including a memoir, Sketches of a Small Town. In a statement, his daughter Ann Shayne says Meador loved medicine, woodworking, writing and being a father. He led a yoga group among his friends weekly — his mantra being that “exercise was key to a long life.” —Kara Hartnett

Frederick S. Humphries

Fourth president of Tennessee State University, HBCU advocate

Among the individuals who have had the honor of holding the position of president of a university in the “Athens of the South,” none has stood taller than Dr. Frederick S. Humphries, the fourth president of Tennessee State University. Humphries served as president of TSU from 1974 to 1985.  During his tenure, he became a stalwart advocate for the university, pressing the state of Tennessee to provide it with the financial support that would enable it to become the premier urban university in Middle Tennessee. 

Perhaps the most lasting part of Humphries’ legacy — and the most endearing for Tiger alumni and currently enrolled students — is the legal battle he fought that ultimately led to the merger of Tennessee State University with the University of Tennessee Nashville. Tennessee State University still exists today as an HBCU because of Humphries’ tenacity, fighting spirit and refusal to allow the university’s history and legacy be minimized and erased from our collective memories during a period in which the importance of Black institutions like TSU were increasingly underappreciated and ignored. Dr. Humphries was our warrior; he was our champion.

Dr. Frederick S. Humphries died on June 24. —Learotha Williams

Joseph Sharbel

Veteran, coach, leader

In 2005, Nashville native Lt. Col. Joseph Sharbel retired from the military and joined the history faculty at Montgomery Bell Academy. Few came to the prestigious private all-boys school better prepared or left it with a more enduring legacy. A graduate of Father Ryan High School and Vanderbilt University’s Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps, Sharbel earned an M.A. in military studies from the Command and Staff College in Quantico, Va. An outstanding career in the Marine Corps saw him serve in Operation Desert Storm, Operation Noble Anvil, Operation Allied Force and Operation Iraqi Freedom. In 2004, he served as operations officer, Iraq Survey Group, Baghdad, and in 2005 he was redeployed to the Horn of Africa to serve as information operations officer for Combined Joint Task Force — Horn of Africa.

Sharbel brought the same sense of duty, leadership and intelligence — as well as a humble spirit and compassionate heart — to MBA, where he also served as dean of students and head rifle coach. Under his tutelage, the team won eight state championships and numerous national awards; he oversaw the creation and construction of the school’s state-of-the-art rifle range, regarded as second to none in the country. Five nights before his death from injuries he received in a motorcycle accident, he was with his rifle team — his band of brothers — celebrating another state championship.

A service with full military honors was held April 24 at the Cathedral of the Incarnation and streamed to MBA’s dining hall for the entire school body. On July 28, Lt. Col. Sharbel was interred at Arlington National Cemetery. —Kay West

Dr. AKM Fakhruddin

Co-founder of the Islamic Center of Nashville, elder, community leader

On May 24, the Middle Tennessee Muslim community lost an elder, a pioneer, and a father and grandfather figure to many.  

I was nervous as a young mother moving to Nashville in the 1990s. I didn’t know anyone in town, but the Islamic Center of Nashville provided a welcoming environment for me and my family. As I think about Dr. Fakhruddin’s passing, I remember the many Sundays when I would take my kids to Sunday school and how we would go out afterward with others. The center enabled my family and me to not only learn about our faith, but also to make lifelong friends. 

Dr. Fakhruddin was born in Bangladesh in 1936 and was one of eight siblings. He received his medical degree in 1959. A Fulbright scholarship brought him to America in 1962 and later to Nashville in 1970, where he joined Meharry Medical College. Dr. Fakhruddin was a devout Muslim. After moving to Nashville, he felt the need for the growing Muslim community to have a dedicated space for prayers and other activities. In 1979, he and others established the Islamic Center of Nashville on 12th Avenue South. He was also instrumental in establishing the Islamic School in 1995. He went on to serve as president of ICN for 24 years. 

Dr. Fakhruddin was gentle, kind and caring to young and old. During his funeral, it was very uplifting to hear the imam of the Bellevue mosque, Omar Sharif, as he recollected Dr. Fakhruddin encouraging him to further his studies — and to hear the young man who said Dr. Fakhruddin used to take his siblings to school before he was born, and the group of young adults who proudly talked about being his prayer buddies. What was remarkable about Dr. Fakhruddin was his humility and accessibility. He made everyone around him feel welcome and special, regardless of their age, race or socioeconomic standing. Dr. Fakhruddin did so much and touched so many, including my family and me. I am beyond grateful for his foresight in creating a community so many years ago.  

His legacy lives on in his children Saeed, Rashed and Sabina, and his grandchildren. May Allah grant him the highest of paradise (aljannah firdaus) and grant his family peace. From Allah we come, and to Him is our return. —Councilmember At-Large Zulfat Suara

Ira Stephen “Steve” North

Judge, attorney, Elvis fanatic 

Before he was an attorney, before he became the first person in 16 years to upset an incumbent and be elected to take Sam Felts Jr.’s seat as judge of the 5th Circuit Court, before serving on the board of the Metro Sports Authority just as the Predators were landing downtown, Steve North was a devout fan of Elvis Presley. That may not have sat well with his equally devout father, a powerful longtime pastor of the Madison Church of Christ. 

The preacher’s kid was so enamored of the King that as a teen in the ’50s, he frequently drove to Presley’s manager Col. Tom Parker’s house at 1215 Gallatin Pike in Madison to see if a pink Cadillac was parked there. If so, it meant Elvis himself was in the building. Decades later, North bought Parker’s Nashville house and practiced law there for several years. Judge North lost his appeal to find a buyer who would preserve the home, and a car wash now stands on the property.

Steve North was one-half of a Metro power couple: In 1979, he was a strong asset in his wife Jo Ann’s successful campaign for an at-large seat on Metro Council, making her Nashville’s first woman elected to countywide office. 

After leaving the bench, North continued to practice law as senior partner of the North Law Office. He was buried on the family farm in Neely’s Bend, on land he liked to roam with his dog Colonel. —Kay West 

Mohamad Aziz Halabjayi

Kurdish activist and mustard gas survivor

Mohamad Aziz Halabjayi survived a mustard gas attack in 1988, when Iraqi planes dropped chemicals onto the city of Halabja — but it caused lifelong damage to his lungs. He started receiving treatment at Vanderbilt University Medical Center in 2001. His treatment at VUMC improved his condition considerably, and he was recorded as the first proven case in the U.S of a rare lung disorder developing from mustard gas. On March 18 of this year, at age 57, Halabjayi died from the injuries he first suffered all those years ago. Friends, neighbors and members of local Kurdish professional groups remember him as an active participant in the community. 

“He courageously shared his story in numerous public events on Halabja and genocide,” Nashville Kurdish activist Remziya Suleyman told Kurdistan 24. “The Kurdish community in the U.S. will forever be indebted to him for all his sacrifices.”

“As a community and a larger displaced diaspora community, it’s important that we ask ourselves how we can contribute to the research, efforts and advocacy for victims of the Halabja Massacre,” the group Kurdish Professionals said in a statement on Halabjayi’s passing. “While this has been heavily politicized, we must act and encourage those in our communities who are in health care, research and politics to demand more efforts in providing treatment, health care and closure to these victims.” —Alejandro Ramirez

Charles Roos

Physicist, inventor, brilliant mind

Charles Roos started young, entering Swarthmore College at age 15 before transferring to the University of Texas at Austin. At a brisk pace, he did graduate work in biology at Princeton, earned a Ph.D. in physics from Johns Hopkins University and spent five years at the University of California and the Caltech accelerator in Pasadena.

In 1959, he took a breath and accepted Vanderbilt University’s invitation to broaden the range of research in the physics department. He won the department’s first National Science Foundation grant to fund high energy and was immediately instrumental in bringing more research to the university. His team built a record-breaking 11 Tesla magnets, and he received one of the first NATO Senior Fellowships.

In the late 1960s, Roos accepted a casual dinner-party challenge from his friend Noah Liff, owner of the huge Steiner-Liff scrapyard in downtown Nashville, to figure out how to sort and save the nonferrous metals out of shredded automobile scrap since magnets could only remove the steel. Roos applied for a grant and launched the Sorter Project at Vanderbilt. That eventually led to the formation of National Recovery Technologies, a company created to do research and development and bring inventions to the marketplace.

In 1989, Roos took early retirement to focus on NRT. The company diversified its sorting capabilities to glass and plastic — NRT technology made the automated sorting of recycled plastic possible. By 2010, the company equipment sorted 70 percent of plastic bottles recycled worldwide. Roos led NRT as chairman of the board until he turned 85.

Roos was irrepressibly curious and indisputably brilliant, remembered as simultaneously pragmatic and idealistic — a formula to change the world. —Kay West

Edgar “EJ” Utley

Freshman, Hillsboro High School

Edgar Utley — whose family and friends called him EJ — was just 15 when he died in February. A freshman at Hillsboro High School who was already playing on the varsity football team, he had so many games yet to play and many more days yet to live.

Compounding the tragedy of his death was the way it came — EJ was shot while sitting on his front porch. Two other teens were arrested and charged with his murder. A cousin told WKRN that EJ was eager to try new things and to excel at them, and she mourned the future that had been taken from him — one she was sure would have been bright. “Oh promises, beyond promises,” she said. —Steven Hale

Penny Felts

Photographer, friend

Just about anyone can find a Polaroid to snap pictures with, but few — if any — can do it as well as Penny Felts did. Felts was a local photographer who specialized in instant film, and she often used expired film to capture dreamy and ethereal photographs, most of which featured women as her subjects.

“Penny was one of the first people I knew that took advantage of the pleasingly shitty technology of instant film, long ago expired with the demise of Polaroid at the hands of digital imaging,” local artist Buddy Jackson tells the Scene. “The unforgiving perfection of high-definition photography suddenly felt uncomfortably detailed and soulless when viewed alongside the humanly flawed, painterly images that Penny made. … It’s heartbreaking to see her light go out while she’s so in her prime. This is a big, sad loss for our community.”

Longtime friend and subject Elle Long admired that Felts was “always creating, always motivated. Even when she said she wasn’t feeling motivated, she would find a way to motivate herself.”

One way Felts motivated herself and others was through the 12.12 Project, which challenged 12 photographers to respond to a monthly theme. The project generated international recognition and participation. 

Felts died of cancer at age 61, but her work will continue to inspire and motivate others. She is survived by her husband Mark Colbert, her children Caitlin and Max Nannini, and her father and siblings. —Kelsey Beyeler

Elizabeth Duff

Pioneering bus driver 

We all have our passions. Elizabeth Duff’s was driving, and she was good at it. 

“I love the feel of it,” Duff told The Tennessean in 2004. “I love to hear the sound of it. When you really drive, you feel the vehicle itself. You listen to the motor. You feel the road.”

Hers is a chapter in the local story of integration and civil rights. As a Black child in segregated Nashville, Duff rode at the back of the bus with her mother. She was 12 years old when a small group of Black and white Nashville college students wrote their last wills and testaments and boarded a bus for Birmingham, Ala. The Freedom Riders — including Ernest “Rip” Patton, who also died this year — desegregated transportation across the country. Thirteen years later, Duff was a courtesy car driver for an auto dealership when the Metro Transit Authority announced that it would accept applications from women. She was hired a week later. It was 1974, and the transit authority’s headquarters did not yet have women’s restrooms. 

“It was a totally male-dominated field of work no matter where you were at in the U.S.,” her son Seneca Duff tells The New York Times. “To see a woman driving a bus as good as any guy would, if not better — some folks got jealous, some folks were shocked, some folks were really proud. She got it from both sides.”

Duff was named Urban Driver of the Year by the Tennessee Public Transportation Association in 2004. She retired in 2007 and became financial secretary of the retiree chapter of the Amalgamated Transit Union Local 1235. The union honored her in 2018. She said at the luncheon that she “enjoyed driving the bus for MTA, but now I want to drive a tractor trailer.” 

She died in February as a result of complications with COVID-19. She was 72, grandmother to 16, and great-grandmother to seven. —Erica Ciccarone

Vereen Bell

Teacher, mentor, author

English professors can be profoundly impactful on our lives. They help us find our favorite authors and books, develop our worldview and become better writers, and give us advice we carry for a lifetime. Vereen Bell, who died this year at age 86, did all of this and more for countless students. 

Specializing in British and American literature along with modern American poetry, Bell began working at Vanderbilt in 1961 as an assistant professor. In his more than 50 years there, Bell made the university a better place by championing diversity. “He did a lot towards helping Vanderbilt not be just all old white men,” says Janis May, who worked with Bell in Vanderbilt’s English department. Bell advocated for a more diverse faculty and a more rigorous Black studies program. While some people were directing slurs and profanities at Perry Wallace — the first Black student to play basketball in the SEC as a Vanderbilt Commodore — Bell befriended Wallace and welcomed him into his home.  

It was this kind of dedication to Vanderbilt’s students that won Bell Vanderbilt’s Chancellor’s Cup award in 1966. He also won the Outstanding Graduate Teaching Award and the Madison Sarratt Prize for excellence in undergraduate teaching, plus a Guggenheim Fellowship for biographical research on W.B. Yeats. Bell wrote Robert Lowell: Nihilist as Hero, The Achievement of Cormac McCarthy and Yeats and the Logic of Formalism and co-edited On Modern Poetry: Essays Presented to Donald Davie.

Along with his many professional achievements, Bell was known as a caring person who befriended many, went above and beyond to take care of his students and loved cracking jokes. Bell’s wife Jane passed away in 2012. They are survived by five children: Mary Vereen Bell, Leighton Alexander Bell, Eleanor Bell Hall, Julie Marx and Jonathan Marx. —Kelsey Beyeler

Gary R. Haynes

Haynes Galleries owner 

Before he opened Haynes Galleries in 2010, Gary Haynes was a successful advertising executive — he was owner and operator of Ericson Marketing Communications, one of the South’s top agencies.

But his lifelong love of art — particularly American realism — led to an organic shift toward starting a gallery. Among the artists the gallery housed were local favorites like Alan LeQuire and Paul Harmon, as well as internationally renowned artists such as the Wyeths (most notable of whom are N.C. and Andrew, but also Jamie, Henriette and Carolyn), Winslow Homer and John Singer Sargeant. He died from complications due to COVID-19 at age 75, and is survived by his wife of 43 years, JoAnne Haynes. —Laura Hutson Hunter

Debbie Davies

Teacher, inspiration

After fighting cancer, former University School of Nashville math teacher Debbie Davies died in September at age 80. She moved to Nashville in 1975 with her husband Keith, who she’d met in Connecticut at Wesleyan University’s master’s in education program. She spent more than three decades teaching at USN. But she did a lot more than teach.

“The story with Debbie is the story of someone leading from the classroom,” says USN director Vince Durnan. “She has built tremendous credibility by virtue of putting in the time. She made life-changing differences for students, but also for faculty members [and] for colleagues.” Many former students, co-workers and friends echo this sentiment in their memories and comments shared on her memorial website. Davies also wrote textbooks and graded AP exams, and in 1989 she won the Presidential Award for Excellence in Mathematics and Science Teaching — an extremely high honor. 

Davies fought for maternity leave in the ’70s  through the Connecticut Education Association, and in the ’80s she went on a “strike from all housework … forcing her kids to learn how to do laundry and her husband to cook.” While receiving cancer treatment at Vanderbilt, she was known to give snacks to parking-garage attendants. Davies was a kind, driven and joy-filled woman who shared that spirit with others. She is survived by her brothers, her two sons and their families. —Kelsey Beyeler

Carter Philips

Classicist, Vanderbilt commencement conductor 

It’s safe to say Carter Philips was the most recognizable member of Vanderbilt University’s classics department. Though a respected professor, he wasn’t well-known because of his lectures. Classical Greek isn’t exactly a course of study with a long waiting list. For years, Philips was the man who led soon-to-be graduates in the procession to commencement ceremonies. That was the public part of his job as university marshal, but there were hundreds of details under his bailiwick in this protocolary role: arrangement of the chairs, the music, the flowers; all had to have his imprimatur. So yes, a generation of Vanderbilt students crossed paths with Philips (or at least, followed his path), and doing so was the result of a great accomplishment.

Philips was accomplished himself. A former professor who later became a colleague remembered the undergraduate Philips as one of the best students of the Greek language to ever matriculate at Vanderbilt. After graduating from Vanderbilt in 1965, Philips earned a doctorate from the University of Pennsylvania and came back to West End in 1969 as a specialist in papyrology, the study of ancient documents on papyrus. He went on to teach Greek language, literature and civilization, earning a reputation as a stickler for correct Greek pronunciation. His specializations included the origin of grammatical gender, preclassical Greek literature and Greek medicine.

Philips became university marshal in 1981 and served in the role until 2002. He was the chair of the classics department for a decade and an associate dean in the College of Arts and Sciences for four years. He died July 8 at age 78. —J.R. Lind

Jerry Snyder

Public Works employee

Longtime Metro Public Works employee Jerry Snyder died in a traffic accident while on duty on Jan. 4, possibly after suffering a medical issue while behind the wheel. 

Snyder had been with Public Works for eight years, and a statement from the department praised his determination during the cleanup efforts following the city’s March 3, 2020, tornado. Snyder was picking up Christmas trees from a recycling plant when the traffic accident happened; no one else was harmed in the crash. Cortnye Stone, a spokesperson with the Nashville Department of Transportation, tells the Scene: “Mr. Snyder was a great employee and a great person. His co-workers miss him enormously, and he’s thought of daily by the people of NDOT.”

Snyder was 60. —Alejandro Ramirez

The Rev. Thomas McKenzie and Charlie McKenzie 

Church of the Redeemer rector and his oldest child

Late August was supposed to be a time the Rev. Thomas McKenzie and his daughter Charlie would look back on fondly. Ahead of Charlie’s senior year at St. John’s College in Santa Fe, N.M., the two had planned a road trip heading west from Nashville. “Driving with my kid to New Mexico,” McKenzie, the rector of Church of the Redeemer, tweeted on Aug. 23. “Today’s goal? Shamrock, Texas.” But they never made it there.

Thomas, 50, and Charlie, 22, were killed in a car accident on the way. As the news spread, shock was accompanied by tributes on Twitter, where the reverend had been an active user. “Many of us will feel lost without his gentle yet courageous leadership,” tweeted Americana singer-songwriter Drew Holcomb. Speaking to the Scene, author and Belmont professor David Dark, who was close friends with McKenzie, remembered him as “a complicated man and also a deep seeker of righteousness,” adding that the reverend understood that “doctrinal disagreements between, within and among various faiths need not stand in the way of working righteously together with others.”

Friends and classmates of Charlie’s from St. John’s College raised money to defer funeral costs for the family. Thomas and Charlie McKenzie were survived by their wife and mother, Laura, and a daughter and sister, Sophie. —Steven Hale

Tamara Price 

Social worker, mother, friend

There was a time when it seemed like you couldn’t go to a show in Nashville without seeing Tamara Price. “If she was in the crowd, you knew it,” says longtime local musician and Scene contributing editor Jack Silverman. “You could hear her shouts of enthusiasm.” 

Price studied social work at Middle Tennessee State University and earned a master’s degree in guidance and counseling at Tennessee State University, waitressing at Calypso Cafe as she earned her degree. As a social worker, Price advocated for adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities, working for 18 years in the field. 

In 2014, Price and her husband Lex traveled to Wuhan, China, to adopt their daughter Maya, who quickly became the love of Price’s life. Price’s friend Allison Inman describes Price as a force of nature. With a sharp wit and wry sense of humor, Price sized up every situation and had a read on everything. “She was smarter than everybody and knew everything all the time,” Inman tells the Scene. “You couldn’t tell her anything. She was always in charge.” 

Price was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer in 2019. “A lot of what made Tam really special was how she chose to live the last 18 months of her life,” says Inman. “She knew she was going to die, and she knew that her daughter was going to lose her mom.” Price transformed her screened-in porch into “Camp Priceless,” a place where her family played games, watched birds, made art and congregated every evening to chat about their day. These “cabin chats” were a way to process what was happening, to prepare her daughter for a life without her. Price took an active role in her own treatment, advocating for metastatic breast cancer research and pursuing every option to extend her life. She was 53 when she died in March. —Erica Ciccarone

Kay Simmons

Development officer, school board member, role model 

Kay Louise Snyder Simmons was a big presence in the world of Nashville education. Simmons held many roles at many different local institutions, both public and private, throughout her career. She was a development officer at Vanderbilt, Montgomery Bell Academy, The Community Foundation of Middle Tennessee, Metro Nashville Public Schools and University School of Nashville. But she was more than a fundraiser. Without formal training as an educator, she served as interim director of USN from 1990 to 1991, and in 2003 became the founding executive director of the Nashville Alliance for Public Education, now called the Nashville Public Education Foundation. She was also the founding executive director of the ​​Canby Robinson Society at Vanderbilt University Medical Center and of the Dean’s Council at Vanderbilt Law School, now known as the Board of Advisors. From 2007 to 2008, she served as the special assistant of former MNPS director of schools Pedro Garcia, and was elected to replace Alan Coverstone on the MNPS board from 2009 to 2012, representing District 9. Simmons also served on a variety of nonprofit and government boards. 

Simmons’ résumé is impressive, and reflects her deep commitment to improving her community. She was a kind, welcoming woman who, according to Coverstone, “was about identifying things that could be better and then going to do something about making them better. And doing that by building relationships, helping everybody to understand the situation and allowing everyone to contribute to the solutions.” She fostered community in whatever way she could, whether that meant creating an annual tradition of lining Richland Avenue with jack-o’-lanterns or bringing people into her home for exquisite meals.

“She was just down-to-earth and a real person who made you feel like you mattered,” says Coverstone. Simmons died at age 72 after battling progressive supranuclear palsy. She is survived by her husband, three children and many grandchildren.  —Kelsey Beyeler

Elaine Parker

Educator, advocate, leader

Not everyone gets to start their career off with advice from Helen Keller, but Elaine MarilynParker did. When Parker graduated from the Harvard Graduate School of Education with a degree in teaching the blind, Helen Keller also received an honorary degree. According to one obituary, Keller told Parker “do not let this go to waste” after the ceremony. Parker took her advice, leading a colorful career serving the blind and others with hearing and mobility limitations. 

Parker’s interest in serving the blind came from her early life in Boston, where her father Maurice Goldman served as a Massachusetts state senator. Parker volunteered at the New York Lighthouse for the Blind and the Boston Veterans Hospital before earning a degree in special education and counseling at Boston University’s School of Education, which then led her to Harvard. 

Before moving to Nashville in 1967, Parker moved to Oak Ridge, Tenn., where she taught and created special education programming and founded a Recording for the Blind program. Tennessee Gov. Frank Clement appointed her as chairperson for the East Tennessee Employment of the Handicapped Program. In Nashville, Parker helped countless others through various education programs for the blind and disabled. She was also appointed commissioner of Tennessee Services for the Blind, worked at Nashville Tech and started a business planning weddings for couples with disabilities and those from diverse backgrounds. She wrote several books and manuals about wedding planning and weddings for those with special needs, and also contributed to a few cookbooks. 

Parker saw many opportunities to help others, which won her the Chesed Award from the Jewish Family Service. When she wasn’t working, she often traveled the world with her husband Frank Parker, who taught environmental engineering at Vanderbilt University. —Kelsey Beyeler

Vicky Carder Arney 

Wildlife advocate 

Wildlife rehabilitation center Walden’s Puddle admits more than 3,500 injured or orphaned animals per year. Once these red-tailed hawks, red-horned owls and other animals — numbering around 100 distinct species — have recovered or matured to be self-sufficient, they are released back into the wild. But the origins of Walden’s Puddle are humble. In 1989, Vicky Carder Arney began rehabilitating wildlife in her pantry. An occupational therapist, reader and quick learner, Arney worked with area vets and completed her own research to learn how to care for animals — like bottle-feeding orphaned squirrels, treating foxes for mange, and healing injuries and illnesses.  

“She started that place from nothing,” says friend and Walden’s Puddle volunteer and staff member Joane Gelep, who first met Arney when she brought her an injured scarlet tanager in 1998. “She was very kindhearted. … Everything about the animal came first. She would give up her sleep. She would give up eating. She would give up anything because that animal needed to be cared for, and it didn’t matter if it was the middle of the night or a weekend.” 

Arney operated out of Berry Hill in the early ’90s. In 1995, thanks to a generous gift from donors, Walden’s Puddle moved to a 14-acre piece of land in Joelton. When Gelep came on as a volunteer in ’98, the organization was still just Arney and a couple of volunteers. Since then, it has grown significantly. 

“The way she was with the animals,” Gelep tells the Scene, “it was like she was a whisperer of some sort. A wild-animal whisperer.” But what has stuck with Gelep most of all is something that Arney said about people. “She said, ‘I want you to know that we’re really here more for the people than we are for the animals. If you think about it, nature takes care of itself. These are wild animals. But I can’t bear to sit by and see people, especially children, who will come in with a baby bunny in a coffee cup, or someone who has accidentally hit a bird on the road, or somebody who found a baby racoon in their chimney.’ ” By treating the animals, the people who cared enough to get them help were left with a feeling of purpose. 

Arney retired from the organization in 2005 to her home in Shelbyville. Her memorial service was held at Walden’s Puddle — still located in Joelton — where her ashes were spread. At the time, her husband Luke Arney shared that the organization was Vicky’s life. —Erica Ciccarone

Jacob Alexander Griffin

Son, brother, friend

Jacob Alexander Griffin was a son, a brother, a grandson, a nephew, a great-nephew, a cousin and a friend to many. He was just 23 years old when he was fatally shot by Metro Nashville police. Jacob was deeply loved by me — his mother — as well as his siblings and family, and he will be forever missed.

Jacob was smart and independent, even as a very young boy, determined to explore his world and leave nothing unchecked. He was always in such a hurry and learned very quickly. He grew into a clever, strong, confident boy who loved puzzles, games, books, animals and some people, approximately in that order. He amazed his family and friends by regularly building new computers or clocks from spare parts, as early as the sixth grade. He always kept a journal, even when he was very young, where he recorded ideas, drawings and reminders, and he was fascinated by origami. He also shared his dreams: He wanted to see a better, more loving world where people were less cruel to one another. He wanted peace in his own life but struggled to find it.

Jacob was diagnosed with schizophrenia at 18. The last five years of his life, Jacob was hamstrung by confusion and isolation. He was very observant and liked to make puzzles of the things he didn’t understand — he joked that after his diagnosis, that was nearly everything. Jacob was aware that he was schizophrenic, but he didn’t like to discuss it or focus on it. He didn’t want people feeling sorry for him. He was proud of his ability to survive in a complex, unforgiving world, and often remarked on the skill and determination required for that. He felt lucky to be smart and capable, considering the difficulties he was up against. He was angry sometimes that his mind had betrayed him. All of his life, he had relied on his agile mind for guidance, and suddenly, the guide started giving him terrible advice and dangerous commands. He described his tormented discussions with the voice in his head as a losing battle, a series of arguments in which he would never prevail. He said his smile was his only weapon, his only answer, but it took enormous effort to keep going.

He worked full time at Goodwill Industries in Brentwood for the last three years of his life, and by all accounts was valued by his colleagues and was a popular figure with regular customers. He was always smiling and laughing, and enjoyed interacting with the people who came and went. He was painfully aware of his unmet potential and described it as a burr under a saddle that was always with him. The greatest pain he experienced was knowing he could have had a different life without schizophrenia.

Jacob’s family will continue to fight for changes in the ways police respond to calls involving people with mental illness. Jacob should be alive today and receiving treatment. —Karen Griffin

Susan Lantrip

Educator, poet 

Susan Lantrip valued her freedom and dignity. She grew up in Memphis and in 2010 moved to Nashville, where she stayed on the streets, in campsites, on couches and in cheap hotels where she endured the elements and all kinds of harassment. She moved into her own apartment in 2017. 

Susan had a gentle and compassionate spirit and often took people into her home when the temperatures dropped. She was a gifted educator as part of Open Table Nashville’s Education Team, and every time she told her story, she cried tears of both sorrow and joy. Sorrow for her regrets, many of which were about her family, and joy for what she had survived and where she was.

“Just because I live under a bridge,” she would say, “doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. I deserve to be treated with the same respect that you give to a man in a three-piece suit.” Susan sold The Contributor for several years and also wrote poems about her experiences that were frequently published in the paper. She was incredibly resilient and a wonderful advocate for others who were falling through the cracks. Susan’s smile is missed daily by those who knew and loved her. —Linda Bailey and Lindsey Krinks, Open Table Nashville  

Fredrick Richards 

Veteran, character, friend

Known as Fred, Mr. Fred and, affectionately, Drop Dead Fred, Fredrick Richards was a veteran. Despite his physical disability, he was a force to be reckoned with. He is remembered for his wild spirit, humor and resiliency, which served him and his community well through so many tough years on the streets of Nashville.

He could reliably be found sitting in his wheelchair flying a sign at the intersection of Nolensville and Harding on the southeast side of town, and never passed up the opportunity to exchange knock-knock jokes. He was sometimes caring and generous to a fault toward those he shared his camp with, first at the “Cut” and later at the soccer-field camp. Fred’s encampment was overcome by flash flooding at Seven Mile Creek in March, which took his life a week before he was to move into housing. He is survived by his adopted daughter Michelle. —India Pungarcher and Lisa Avrit, Open Table Nashville 

Melissa Conquest 

Neighbor

A tiny woman with a huge heart, Melissa Conquest is remembered for taking care of the dogs in her community. She was always smiling, talking about country music and pining over her one true love, Luke Bryan — Melissa collected his CDs and adorned her home with pictures of him. 

Melissa displayed bravery by leaving a living arrangement that she felt was not dignified. She made choices to take control of her own life and find a new community that, despite its own set of challenges, provided her with the autonomy, freedom, friendship and support she deserved. Tragically, Melissa passed away during the flash flooding of Seven Mile Creek in March that destroyed her encampment — her home. —India Pungarcher and Lisa Avrit, Open Table Nashville 

Anthony Gunter 

Contributor vendor and poet

Longtime vendor and poet for The Contributor Anthony Gunter died in mid-June at age 59. Gunter was as much part of the street paper’s legacy as anyone, having sold copies since near its inception.

“Anthony had an indefatigable spirit in the office and on his corner,” says Cathy Jennings, executive director of The Contributor. “His outgoing love of life carried him through his disability and hard times. Customers loved him. He chose everyday to see the positive and he loved that he could write for The Contributor and share that spirit.”

When actress Connie Britton visited The Contributor’s offices, Gunter dressed in a suit and tried throughout the encounter to deliver his best lyrics and poetry to her. He was always looking for his next big break. Volunteers at The Contributor call him “part of the legacy” of the paper, and many say he will be remembered for his laugh. Gunter penned more than 100 poems for the paper — his poems were often in a lyrical style and almost always about romance. He would attend writers’ workshops for the paper and offer suggestions to other writers, sometimes sparking debate by bringing up hot topics or telling people that something they wrote wasn’t up to par. He often thought he was being suave when he was being crass, but he was willing to talk about the ways he could and would change his behavior.

During the pandemic, Gunter took to selling papers at one of the only places where people were still going: a grocery store. He would sell from his motorized scooter outside Osborne’s Bi-Rite on Belmont Boulevard. Gunter was interviewed in a feature The Contributor ran in the Japanese street paper The Big Issue. He said he was happy to have found a place to sell the paper successfully, but also lamented that “all his other honey holes are closed down.” At that time, he said he had been making more money than usual. He was feeling confident.

Gunter died in housing, having lived decades of his life on and off the streets. —Amanda Haggard 

Maria Melton 

Educator, organizer

Next time you’re greeted with a smile at Vanderbilt University Medical Center or go home feeling that you were heard and understood, think of Maria Melton. As director of the hospital’s Service Learning and Measurement team, Melton was driven by her belief that all people should be treated with kindness and respect. She imparted that to her colleagues through learning and development programs, such as the Defining Personalized Care: Elevating our Culture of Service initiative. 

Born Jan. 6, 1975, in Grosse Pointe, Mich., Melton attended Georgia Tech, Loyola University Chicago and Trevecca Nazarene University, where she earned a doctorate in education. Melton taught at Trevecca, as well as at Franciscan Missionaries of Our Lady University. Melton was passionate about fostering a culture of inclusion at VUMC, and she organized the Healthcare Alliance of Asian-Americans and Pacific Islanders Employee Resource Group. The group celebrates Asian and Pacific Islander heritage and works to unify all cultures. Her colleagues remember her as authentic, energetic, joyful, bright and kind. 

Melton died from injuries sustained during the March flood in Maury County. She was 45. —Erica Ciccarone

Douglas Hammond

Sports fan, father, flood victim

Police believe Douglas Hammond was driving near his home during late March’s flash flooding when his car ran off the road and got stuck in a culvert. When he got out of the car, he was swept away by the floodwaters and drowned. His body was found on the Nashboro Golf Club course, where he — an avid golfer — had no doubt played many times. In an obituary, his family remembered Hammond’s love of baseball and Florida Gators football, which he developed during his upbringing in South Florida. He was also a longtime Nissan employee. He was 65 and is survived by two children, Hunter and McKenzie, and their mother Jackie. —Steven Hale 

Garry Cole

Husband, father, flood victim

 “He was just a warm, kindhearted, goofy guy.” That’s how Miracle Berry described her father, Garry Cole, to WSMV after he died in the March floods. Cole, a 70-year-old lifelong Nashvillian, was found in his car in Antioch after family members became worried when he didn’t come home. He’d been married to his wife Mary for 31 years and had two children. His family remembered how he “enjoyed vacations with family and his grandchildren, cooking [and] horror movies.” —Steven Hale  

 Mary Brown

Beloved community member  

Mary Brown was well-known in the community, and everyone who knew her loved her. Ms. Mary came to Nashville from Michigan, where she had lived most of her life. She made the benches and storefronts of downtown Nashville her home.  

Mary was brave and resilient in her life during homelessness. She had a kind and gentle spirit and would not take anything she did not want or need to survive. Mary would always accept Oreos and fried chicken when it was offered. If you gave her a ride on a cold winter night, she’d ask you to play some country music on the radio. 

The journey to housing sadly never came for Mary, and she was hit by a car crossing a street downtown late last year. Mary is missed by everyone who knew her. The streets of Nashville are much gloomier without her presence. We celebrate knowing she is forever housed in heaven. —Tiffany Ladd, The Salvation Army, Nashville Area Command 

Members of the Homeless Community

In 2021, Open Table Nashville identified 194 members of the local homeless community who have died — the highest number on record. Some ages and full names are unavailable at the moment. The average age of death among those recorded is 54 — significantly lower than the average age of death in the U.S. Find the names below, including flood victims Melissa Conquest and Fred Richards, who are mentioned above.

Timothy Abrams, 66; Yadelin Abreu; Justin “Tiny” Adams; Aguto Aguto, 39; Eduardo Alvarez; Jeffery Michael Anderson, 52; Tony Anthony, 48; Shavaun Atcitty, 42; Brittney Bannister, 31; Jeffrey Francis Bee, 57; Homer Bell, 51; Brian Berkley, 55; Kimberly Berlin, 25; Jackie Bess, 58; Charles Birdsong, 56; Douglas Bondie; Juanita Bowling, 33; William Brink, 74; Gregory Brinson; Nicholas Brown, 29; Richard Allen Brown, 68; Jake Stevens Brown, 35; James Brown Jr., 60; TamarshaBumphus, 44; Katherine M. Burdelsky, 37; Bryant Burton, 39; Danny Cantrell, 69; Joe Carey, 54; Ronnie Carney, 55; Joseph Clayton; Steven Clemmons, 56; Tony Coffey; David Wayne Coleman; Tony Collins Jr.; Jerry Combs, 44; Melissa Conquest, 46; Jewel Copeland, 61; Phillip Cornette, 34; Sylvester Cosby, 59; Carroll Crimmons, 51; Larry Criswell, 54; Terry L. Critchlow, 62; Robert Crowe; James Crowley; Donald Crutcher, 68; Paul Cunningham III; Darr; Steven Denson, 36; Larry Gail Dowell, 62; Lee Duffield, 42; Daniel Dyer, 64; Daryl Ellis; Gary Ernissee; “Fast Blacc”; Gary Foriest, 55; Andrew Eugene Fox; Joe Franklin, 65; Ralph Freeman, 71; Stephan Fuller, 64; Mingcorya Gaddes, 44; Jackie Gainous; Robin “BillBill” Garrett, 57; Michael Garschagen, 65; Joshua Grier; Jacob Griffin, 23; Anthony Griffin, 55; Anthony Gunter, 59; Larry Guthrie, 57; Jewel Hackworth, 71; Sammy Haddock, 70; Jacob Hale; Cindy Ann Hall; Rodger Halpin, 65; Nathanial Hargrove, 46; Timothy Hatfield, 56; Alicia Head, 42; Daisy Hendershot; Gail Heumann, 54; John “Dr. John” Holder, 66; Eric Hudson, 44; Keith Hughes, 57; Leland K. Humphrey, 32; Darrian Humphries, 40; Brodge Hurst, 54; Lewis “Louie” Jennings, 61; Stephanie Jetton, 56; James Johnson, 64; Jason Johnston; Crystal Jones, 48; Michael Earnest Jones, 53; James Keniston, 63; Norris Kenner, 73; Marvin Kimbrough; Richard Kimery, 56; Robert Kiningham, 38; James Robert Kinney, 36; Joseph Knight, 59; Joseph Koschmider, 50; Susan Lantrip, 58; Robert Lasater, 56; Brian Lawrence, 40; Arthur M. Lawson, 58; Christopher Ledwell; James P. Lee, 46; Walter Lewis, 31; LaVonda Lindsley, 56; Timothy Lofton, 46; Thelma Lynch, 62; Roy Madison, 55; Steven “Chichi” Martinez, 25; Larry Mashburn, 55; Jairus C. Mathis, 49; Larry Lee McConnell III; Kelvin McCullough, 56; Jaritha McCutheon-Cousin, 64; Kenneth “Kenny” McKimmy, 47; Michael Meeks; Mark Meyers; Hyman Miller, 68; Richard Miller, 67; Larry Mintlow, 56; Joshua Mitchell; Michael Moss, 55; Jay Mountjoy, 63; Tammy Murrock, 57; Franklin “Don” Nash, 62; Freeman Nation, 62; Fred Ngongi, 63; John Noel, 56; Melissa Orrick,42; Larry Parker, 66; Jerry “Montana” Paschall, 72; Richard Paul, 54; Rufus Peaks, 60; Robert Perry; “Chaplain” Charles Phipps, 70; Simone Pierson, 53; Hans Polak; Archie Powell; Ricky Prock, 62; Bobby Putman, 68; Keith Ramey; Otis Randolph, 60; Nelson Ray, 67; Fredrick “Fred” Richards, 64; Jeff Richardson, 58; Jeffrey Roberts, 55; Mario Robich, 29; Tiffany Rolle; William Ross; Nicholas Rummel, 40; David Rye, 60; Colton Sanders; Matthew Schmidt, 55; Sean Sehorn, 43; Jeremy Shivers; Jeremy Shivers, 40; Edward Smith, 48; John Spencer; Danny Spencer, 68; James Spratt, 63; Frederick Stevenson, 49; Michael Storey, 61; Lawrence Stout, 68; James Stutts, 61; John Sugg, 53; Roy Swafford, 50; Harold Thompson, 62; Joseph A. Tidwell; Joe Tinsley, 69; Thomas “Tommy” Toombs, 52; William Christopher Tucker Jr., 32; Marice Underwood, 40; Alfonzo Valencia; Holly Vantrease, 27; John Velez, 52; Lacie Waldrop Hayes, 36; Kenneth Robert Wayne Walter, 42; Lonnie Warren, 60; Steven Warren, 43; Eugene Douglas Wells, 39; Charles White, 72; Shameka White, 45; Rodney Whitehead, 55; Cornelius Whitlock, 51; Tony Williams; Kenneth “Kenny” Williams; Willie Wilson, 60; Tia Winford, 34; Keith Winston, 56; Mitchell Wolfe, 63; Patrick Wooden, 60; Preston P. Woods; Anthony Young, 66.

In Memoriam 2021

Commemorating some of the irreplaceable Nashville figures we lost this year