Thomas Colvin, Jr.

     Thomas Colvin, Jr., a good and decent man, peacefully departed this life on Friday, September 23, 2011 at his home in Dothan.

     A Mass of Christian Burial will be held 11 am Wednesday, September 28, 2011 at St. Columba Catholic Church with Father Patrick Gallagher officiating. Burial with military honors will follow in Sunset Memorial Park with Robert Byrd directing. The family will receive friends from 6-8 pm Tuesday at the funeral home with a prayer service at 7:45 pm.

     Born in Ozark, on June 15, 1931, he was the youngest child of the late Thomas and Flora (Waters) Colvin, Sr. Educated in the Ozark Public Schools, he earned degrees from Alabama State University and Troy University, and also matriculated at Alabama A&M University.

     On June 1, 1957, he married Alma Celestine Boykin. To this union three children were born: Leslye, Thomas III, and Angela. A lifelong Christian, he and his family joined St. Columba Catholic Church in the 1960s where he served in several ministries. A tireless volunteer, he was involved with many parish and community efforts. In addition to having served as Chair of the Dothan Board of Education he served many years on the Dothan Housing Authority, and was a Fourth Degree, Knight of Columbus. There are too many other organizations to identify individually, but he was committed to each.

     He began teaching in the Dothan City Schools after receiving an honorable discharge as a Sergeant from the United States Army. A brick mason and educator, he was chosen as the Teacher of the Year in 1966. He retired from George C. Wallace Community College in 1990 after more than three decades of educating the students of Dothan and the Wiregrass area. In his retirement, this loving and devoted family man enjoyed being a grandfather, genealogist, and fisherman.

     He was predeceased by his parents, Thomas and Flora (Waters) Colvin of Ozark, and his brother and sister-in-law, Lewis and Carolyn Evans of Indianapolis, IN.

     Those blessed to cherish memories of him include his loving wife, Alma Boykin Colvin; three children, Leslye Alise Colvin of Decatur, GA, Thomas Colvin, III of Huntsville, AL, and Angela Denise Colvin-Burque of Auburn, AL; three grandchildren, Brittany (Jonathan) Nekayah Colvin Danner of Birmingham, AL, Joseph Thomas Burque of Auburn, AL, and Andrew Daniel Burque of Auburn, AL; one great-grandchild, Kaylex Mariyah Danner; two sisters, Mary (Melvin) Loman of Albany, GA, and Florine Colvin of Ozark; sisters-in-law, Paulette (Willie) Love of Ozark and Renee Matthews of Birmingham; brother-in-law, Chris (Toretha) Jackson of Ozark; three special cousins, Loretta Boykin, Bea Lewis and Ann Parker, all of Ozark; one aunt, Barbara Smith Waters of Dothan; and a host of nieces, nephews and cousins.

     In lieu of flowers, please make donations to Catholic Social Services of Dothan, 557 W. Main St., Dothan, AL, 36301.

House of Refuge (Originally published in The Dothan Eagle)

***Daddy, it's been only two weeks. Thank you for the memories....***

House of Refuge

DeVon A. Applewhite / dapplewhite@dothaneagle.com

Photo: Ric Helmke / ehelmke@dothaneagle.com

January 27, 2007

Tom and Alma Colvin began attending St. Columba Catholic Church in 1966 in search of a house of worship which would place more of an emphasis on a relationship with God.
The year was 1966.

Turned off by the confrontational style of the pastor of the church they were attending, Tom and Alma Colvin started a search for a congregation more responsive to their needs - a house of worship which would place more of an emphasis on a relationship with God. Their search led them to one of the few predominately white churches that accepted blacks at that time, St. Columba Catholic Church.

The Colvins gave St. Columba a try on the advice of Tom’s parents, Ozark residents who attended Catholic services there.

Because of the family link, it’s not surprising the Colvins were receptive to converting to the Catholic faith, but what was remarkable about their visit was the welcome they received.

“I didn’t feel any hostility at all,” said Mrs. Colvin, a teacher in Dothan City Schools at the time.

Mr. Colvin, employed as a masonry teacher, also felt comfortable worshipping at St. Columba. The reception they received was a stark contrast to what was going on in the Deep South.

During the late 1960s, segregation was entrenched in society, Martin Luther King Jr. was leading civil rights marches and race riots were happening in other parts of the country. It was a time when many African Americans were well aware there was an invisible boundary they dare not cross.

The Catholic Church was one place in society where blacks were not marginalized and could co-exist with whites peacefully. Although the Colvins were not the first black family to integrate St. Columba - there were a handful of black families already attending - the scenario would not have occurred in most white Protestant churches.

Joining St. Columba’s congregation in 1967, the Colvins and their three children, who don’t consider themselves forerunners in fostering race relations between blacks and whites, were emboldened.

“We grew up in a segregated society, but we didn’t look down,” Mr. Colvin said. “We always looked up.”

It’s that dignity which never allowed the Colvins to feel inferior to any of St. Columba’s white members. The couple viewed themselves as equals, never fearing retaliation for asserting themselves and taking on active roles in the church.

When she became a member, Mrs. Colvin led a class similar to Sunday school for years and served as parish council secretary.
She has also been an active volunteer at Catholic Social Services for more than a decade. Mr. Colvin has served as vice president of the parish council, lector and Eucharist minister.

Four decades after joining, the Colvins remain devoted to St. Columba and are grateful for their conversion.

Although there are still only a handful of African American families attending St. Columba, the Colvins said worshipping in the overwhelmingly white congregation has never caused them to lose touch with their identity.

“You can keep your identity with any religion,” Mr. Colvin said.

“People can look at me and see I’m black,” added Mrs. Colvin.

The Moment of Reconnection

When visiting the home of my childhood,
it is inevitable that some visits coincide
with the funerals of those
for whom there is no memory
of not knowing.

Respectful of the grief,
the community gathers
to bless the family. 
Members of the community,
in turn, are blessed
by seeing so many
from yesteryear...
those who mutually delight
in the moment of reconnection
through the sharing of a glance, a smile,
a word, a touch, or an embrace.

Peers and elders;
friends and neighbors;
schoolmates and educators...
for each, life has provided
different experiences and paths,
different hills and valleys.

Fully grounded in the present,
the moment of reconnection blesses
the common experience,
the common path of yesteryear.

A Future Not Our Own

It helps, now and then, to step back
and take the long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of
the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete,
which is another way of saying
that the kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No programme accomplishes the church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about:
We plant seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,

knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that

will need further development.
We provide yeast that

produces effects beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything
and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning,

a step along the way,
an opportunity for God's grace

to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results,
but that is the difference

between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders,
ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own. 

Written by Bishop Ken Untener of Sagninaw