Hazel Marie Curry

If you had to capture Hazel’s spirit, her son Tommy perhaps said it best: she had the heart and strength of Annie Oakley. She faced the world with an independent, sharp-shooting determination and a protective instinct.

Her foundation was laid in a family structure that was non-traditional for the time. Her parents, the late H.W. Curry and the late Corine LaSalle, divorced and both remarried. This early experience, involving stepparents Dorothy Curry and George Kennard, (and also Don LaSalle) taught Hazel that "family" is defined not by rigid structure, but by the love and connections you choose to foster. This flexibility became a defining trait and paved the way for important connections throughout her life.

As the oldest daughter, she embraced her role as a protector and caregiver. She had assisted in the role of primary caregiver for her older brother, the late Leon Curry (who was disabled), and she later sewed clothes for her younger siblings. This selfless care became a lifelong habit, quietly extending into the community where she prepared meals for her neighbors and served as a secretary for a community organization without seeking recognition.

That strong spirit was always balanced by the fierce loyalty she shared with her sisters, Joyce, Donna (now deceased), and Wilma. The bond between them was a source of constant support, laughter, and great stories.

Hazel was, without a doubt, a woman of letters and a truly gifted writer. She possessed a razor-sharp, biting wit that was clear in her conversation and on the page. She was well-read, with her shelves holding everything from Shakespeare, Poe, and Twain to The Bible (along with other spiritual texts) and a good sleazy romance novel.

She was a unique and vibrant thinker who embraced the new. She was quick to adopt new technology and never allowed age to curb her curiosity. This open mind led to a lifelong love affair with British culture; she was a dedicated Anglophile, known for her collection of fine tea, her love of British comedies, and her deep enjoyment of learning about other cultures.

While formidable, Hazel was also fun and funny. She was so easily startled that her sudden, ear-splitting scream would inevitably terrify—and then instantly amuse—everyone within earshot. The famous 'Jungle Book Incident,' where her scream drove her embarrassed sons to switch seats in a movie theater, remains a perfect, funny reflection of her lively nature. Years later, her grandson would hide various places throughout the house just to scare her, knowing he’d be rewarded with her famous, Hollywood-level shriek and a guaranteed laugh afterward.

If you wanted to see Hazel at her happiest, you needed to be at her annual Christmas celebration. She was the ultimate host, and the gathering was legendary for the huge stockings she prepared for every family. These stockings were filled with wonderfully random, year-round finds—everything from a practical wok to an unexpected pickle-in-a bag. It was a perfect, funny reflection of a woman who valued the giving and the shared, bewildered laughter over any material gift. Hazel had boundless hospitality. Her door was always open, not just for family, but for anyone a relative brought along, and there was always plenty of food.

She is survived by one son and two daughters, Tommy Morse, and his children Jesse and Shelby; Tina Edwards, and her children, Megan Fields (Allen Morse) and Blake Edwards; and Stacy (Leroy) Barfield and their children, Preston and Angelina Barfield.

She also leaves behind the children of her late son Jerry Arthur Morse Jr. (aka “Bubba”), Amanda Price, and her two children, McKinley and Josh Price, and Samantha (Tony) Cervantes, and their two children, Adrian and Andrew Cervantes. She is also survived by two sisters, Joyce Insall and Wilma Bradley, and many nieces and nephews.

She was preceded in death by both of her parents, as well as her stepparents, her brother, Rollie Leon Curry, and her sister, Donna Kennard Simms.

Hazel was loved by many, and she leaves behind a host of additional relatives and friends who will miss her dearly.

If you like, wearing a pop of purple (in any variation) is a welcome tribute to her favorite color.