The tribute below was written in honor of my father. It was written and read by Sam Weatherford at a function where it was announced that a scholarship was being made in Allen's honor.

How to Be a Man

Growing up without a father, one sometimes wonders just how to be a man.  When you are firm and when are you gentle. When do you take a stand, and when do you realize to give in, is best for all concerned. When do you protect and when do you let them fall on their own? Just a few examples of where indecision may come in adult life without that strong father figure helping you along the way.  If you’re truly searching for answers, you look to wise men for help, mostly without them knowing it.  It could be that junior high principal who you ultimately end up going to church with.  The one who saw fit to give you a week’s vacation once to check your attitude. Then years later seeing that 88 year old man, singing a solo at church and bringing the house down, while you sat there thanking him for the discipline.  Or the wealthy cleaners founder who once told you, “I’ve always wanted a lake house, but, It would be too tempting to miss church on Sunday” as I sat in amazement at his devotion.  And the upstart entrepreneur, who gave you a chance, and always exemplified fairness and honesty in all business dealings while you learned.  You gain from all and take something with you to use and copy, as if you had inherited these traits long before.  Real men must be like them.

Yet seldom can you find the character and values of all you admire rolled up into one man, then you meet William Allen Bullard.  And as you get to know him, you realize he is more concerned with your family and your well being, than selling you an air handling unit.  You learn to value his opinion and seek his counsel on a variety of issues, for his knowledge and fairness. He seems wise and strong, like a man’s man, yet gentle at the same time.  You feel a connection, like no other friend or mentor has given you. You look forward to the office visits, as the entire place takes on an air of freshness and vitality, when you hear the familiar deep laughter from the foyer.  You wait, and wait, but he has business to take care of.  That of visiting everyone in between.  Then you greet and shake hands like men do, but you want to hug him, for all he has taught you and the example he gives.  You listen to stories of his grown children and their diverse interests, and wonder how he managed all those personalities.  You ask him how one can ever let go as you love your own so dearly, and he smiles and tells you, “It even gets better”, and you know it must be so.  He speaks of his loving wife who he adores as his face beams when he speaks of “Betty Ann”.  Her heart given to the education of her family and the public, and his pride in such.  Your mind wanders, wishing you could be that exchange student they house for a semester or could sit at the table, in their warm home at Thanksgiving or Christmas, and listen to the laughter and joy of everyone coming together.  Or maybe hear a tune on the piano from the virtuoso.  Shouldn’t we all treat others as if it were Christmas?  A. Bullard did.

But you’re thankful for the short time together and richer for the experience.  And as you say good bye, you look squarely into the eyes, like men do, but you feel this genuine connection, of concern, strength and peace.

And in that moment, you feel just how you think it would with a father saying good by to you, until the next time your together.  The closest you will ever come to that feeling. 

Thank you Mr. Bullard.