Eulogy for Floyd Fox

I am honored to say a few words about my Uncle Floyd. I saw my uncle 7 years ago, when he came to visit me in Texas.    He told me that he didn’t like it in Texas, because they were too strict.  I replied the state Motto is “Don’t Mess With Texas.”    When I last saw him he was wearing a Washington State Red Skin jacket.   He told me that while in Dallas, one guy told him that he had a lot of nerve wearing that Red Skin jacket around the home of the Dallas Cowboys.   My uncle wore the Red Skin Jacket not because he was a fan of the football team, but because he was proud to wear the Indian Head logo.   My Uncle Floyd was always proud of his Native American heritage.

My uncle Floyd was born in Chicago, Illinois on June 1, 1945.  He was the 4^th child born to my grandparents, David Fox and Alice Trudeau.  His nickname was Bobo.  My  Uncle Floyd always respected his parents.   That is one thing I can say about my Uncle Floyd and all my uncles is that they were very respectful to their parents. 

My Uncle Floyd was a free spirit.  He probably visited more places in Canada and the US than anyone in our family.    In all honesty, he was always on the road because he had no place to call home.   In that sense he was a very lonely man.   

When my uncle Floyd was a little boy around 6 years old, his grandmother Mary Jane Trudeau had asked him to walk his grandpa, Michael Anthony Trudeau to church.   My great-grandpa was hard of seeing.   It had just recently rained so there were puddles everywhere.   So my Uncle Floyd took his grandpa by the hand and walked him to church, making sure his grandpa walked through all the puddles along the way.  By the time grandpa arrived back to the house, his Sunday clothes were all muddy.

My great grandmother, Mary Jane Trudeau once told me that when my uncle Floyd was a little boy she asked my grandparents if she could keep him and raise him but my grandparents said no.   

My Uncle Floyd went to St. Hedwig’s Catholic School in Chicago along with his siblings.   During one Christmas concert, my Uncle Fred told me that all three of the Fox brothers,my uncles Frank, Fred and Floyd, had to get up on stage and sing a Christmas song in front of the whole school.    My Uncle Fred said they sang Jingle Bells and were doing just fine until my Uncle Floyd got confused and started signing Old MacDonald Had a Farm and messed them all up.  All the kids in the auditorium laughed.

My mother, Florence said that my Uncle Floyd had a beautiful baritone voice when he sang in Church.   And he could dance too.   He liked dancing to the rhythm and blues music.   He could really twist like they did on the South side of Chicago.  He would get down really low and twist.  

 

One Thanksgiving, my Uncle Floyd went to visit my parents.  My mother decided to serve duck for Thanksgiving.   They were all seated at the table when my Uncle Floyd arrived.    My father took the opportunity to put his sneak his duck leg on my Uncle Floyd's plate that my mother was preparing for him.   When they sat down to eat my mother commented that he could have her duck leg since she already gave my Dad a duck leg.   My Uncle Floyd looks down at is plate with two duck legs and wonders, if my Dad Terry ate one duck leg and two are on his plate then asks my mom, "Florence, just how many legs does a duck have?  

My Uncle Floyd wanted to join the military when he was younger.    However, he was unable to join either because he got in trouble when he was younger or because of his flat feet.   He always wore the army jackets.

My Uncle Floyd worked side jobs when he was younger, mainly painting, tree cutting, etc.

Once my Uncle Frank ended up in the working in the South side of Chicago when he was younger.   He was surrounded by all these south Chicago gang members of the Crypts.    One of the guys tried to bother my Uncle Frank but another gang member recognized my Uncle Frank as Floyd’s brother and told the guy to leave my Uncle Frank alone.  He said that’s Fox'es brother.    My Uncle Frank told my mother that he was so thankful to be my Uncle Floyd’s brother.

Once my Uncle Floyd found him self before a Judge in Sault Ste. Marie, MI.   He was placed on probabion but left town and missed his hearing.   While in Cananda my Uncle Floyd sent the Judge a post card with a pig on the front of it.    He wrote on the post card, I"m here in Canada and found a photo of you, hahaha.    Later my Uncle Fred found himself standing in front of the same Judge who knew he was Floyd's brother.  He told my Uncle Fred, you tell that your brother Floyd that I got his postcard and I'm mad.   You let him know I have a cell just waiting for him."

There was once a time when our family was given false notice of my Uncle Floyd’s death.   Apparently his wallet was stolen and the person who stole his wallet died.   My Uncle Floyd happened to call while his funeral arrangements were being planned.   This incident was reported in the local newspaper.  My grandmother was so happy when she received his phone call.  

In his later years, my grandmother taught my Uncle Floyd how to quilt and do some native crafts like make canoes and quillwork.

When my grandmother died, my Uncle Floyd no longer had a place to stay.  Because of his drinking he was unwelcome which is the case with so many alcoholics.    My Uncle Floyd would make his rounds to visit his relatives in the Soo, Ottawa, Chicago and even Texas.  

 

My Uncle Floyd would frequently visit the Indian Centers in the US and Native Friendship Centers in Canada.   Once he visited the Northern Indian Affairs and reportedly told them he no longer wanted to be Ojibwe, they could take his Native Card.   He wanted to be a Mohawk.

The last time he saw me, he gave me a copy of the article in the paper about my grandmother’s death.   He kept it in his wallet.

During my grandmother’s funeral, my Uncle Floyd nearly tipped over her casket.    My Uncle Frank, got  up to speak, and acknowledged his brother Floyd and stated that he is hurting too for his mother and that we should welcome him because he is also family.  My Uncle Frank acknowledged how my Uncle Floyd was a great help to my grandmother, Alice.   My Uncle Floyd was so touched by these kind, loving words from his brother Frank.  He bowed his head and said thank you bro.   After the Priest said the prayers, my Uncle Floyed asked him if he knew the bible verse, Deuteronomy 15:11, the Priest replied yes and quoted a passage the bible which read, "Therefore, I command you, You shall open wide your hand to your brother, to the needy and to the poor, in your land."

Through the years, I often prayed for my Uncle Floyd and my Uncle Fred.  I prayed that they would have a clean bed to sleep in and food to eat.  

 

My sister Dianna recently had a dream about him, one week before the anniversary of his death.  In her dream he was in a large room with other Native People.   My sister told him that she was sorry he had to go the way he did referring to his dying alone without any relatives nearby for comfort.  He acknowledged her words with a nod.

We were very saddened to hear that My Uncle Floyd died in a hospital alone on  December, 10, 2010.     I will miss my Uncle Floyd, the fond memories we had with him growing up, his loud laughter, and his kindness.      

I look forward to the day when I can someday see my Uncle Floyd, my Uncle Frank Fox, my grandparents David and Alice Fox,  and all of our relatives who have passed away.  May they rest in peace.  

Precious in the eyes of the Lord are the death of his loved ones. Psalm 116:15

My Uncle Floyd was finally called home where a room is prepared for him and he can finally rest.

 

In honor of his memory, let's keep him in our prayers and always help the poor, the needy and our brothers in need.