Sam Luce White

Sam grew up an only child on a farm in Phoenix, Mississippi, a hamlet atop No Mistake hill just outside Satartia in Yazoo County. He liked to tell about how Phoenix had been a much larger town when he was a small child, with three stores and a school. He attended that school where his mother Ella Ree taught all six grades in a single, though fairly sizable room. The sixth graders tutored the first graders while she taught the fourth graders and everyone else took to the school yard with their baseballs, marbles and pocket knives. Sam claimed to be a poor student as he progressed to the upper grades, but there is every reason to believe he was in the top ten of his class consistently in the early years.

Life in Phoenix was not all about school. There was a farm to run, and with the outbreak of World War II, precious few men were around to work on it. Sam toiled in the barn and pastures with his Granddaddy and Uncle and helped his Mother with the garden, though he much preferred hanging around the kitchen with his Grandmother. He never thought it was quite fair that while Granddaddy rode the horse and Uncle Van rode the mule, he was stuck trailing behind on foot. An even worse memory, which he often shared with a smile, was arising early on dark, frosty winter mornings to go search for the family cows up and down the gulleys of north Phoenix, listening, believe it or not, for the tell-tale clank of a cowbell inevitably leading him into a briar patch at the bottom of the deepest, slipperiest, rockiest ravine. Not much else is really known about his work on the farm, other than his fondness for his favorite dog. They called him "Dog." So as not to be confused with “Puppy,” you see. He liked Dog because he could climb fences. All of this took up much of his time but what he really loved when left alone was reading Zane Grey westerns, listening to the Grand Ole Opry, and devouring the Sporting News for information about the Boston Red Sox.

Time passed and Sam graduated from Satartia High School before eventually arriving at Mississippi State. He lived in Old Main Dormitory for his first two years, participating in scholarly debates such as whether Elvis was for real or a flash in the pan. Contending Elvis had none of the charisma of a true artist like Hank Williams, his views on the King proved less than prescient. He loved going to basketball games and heckling opposing coaches like Kentucky’s Adolph Rupp. He hitchhiked to football games and back and forth from Phoenix, or at least as close to Phoenix as strangers could get. Sam earned degrees in both Chemical and Mechanical Engineering at State.

In 1957, Sam got his first car, a 57 Chevy, as a gift from his mother. He also fell in love at first sight on a blind date with his future wife of sixty-four years, the former Patricia Beasley. It was a good year. For the rest of his life, and even as recently as last week, he relished reliving the stroke of good fortune that led him to Patricia.

Patricia was the oldest of four girls in a Mississippi family living in temporary exile in Sandpoint, Idaho. For two summers Sam worked the deep forests of rural Idaho felling timber and staying with the Beasleys. He loved the Zane Grey scenery he had previously known only in imagination, the cool mountain summers, and more than anything becoming part of Patricia's close-knit family. He came to feel like a brother to Patricia’s little sisters, Carolyn, Barbara and Shirley, during this time. He loved to share the memory of the Beasley weekend drives where if one went, all went. Mr. Beasley would order everyone out to the car and the girls would dutifully pile in to the back seat for the trip to anywhere, often nowhere in particular. One weekend Sam agreed to drive the girls to Spokane to see Elvis. Barbara, in particular, was a fanatic. The only thing he ever had to say about that trip was that the racket from all those screaming teens was awful. Always obvious but unsaid was the satisfaction he felt on being along for the ride.

Sam and Patricia married in a Sandpoint snowstorm on December 27, 1957. They honeymooned by driving cross-country back to Mississippi so he could finish his second degree and begin a family. Suzy came the following December in Starkville, and Bill two years later during a short stint in Natchez. The family moved to Pensacola, Florida, and a decade later, Ben was born. In 1972, the Whites arrived in Pascagoula, Mississippi, and shortly thereafter welcomed Nancy. There would be no more relocations.

From 1958 when Suzy was born until Nancy’s high school graduation in 1992, Sam’s life revolved around children. Beach trips, family vacations, holidays and birthday celebrations were continual. He built sandboxes, assembled swing sets, and erected basketball hoops. He and Patricia once spent three months of evenings sequestered in their bedroom surreptitiously constructing a wooden doll house to unveil Christmas morning. He taught Sunday School and coached baseball. He cut the grass, raised tomatoes and butterbeans, played bridge a couple of times a month and wrote a letter to his Mother from his red rocking chair every Saturday. He cleaned up after four hurricanes. He never had a fever. He built confidence, instilled ethics, and emphasized education. He lived the way a Christian ought to live. Mostly, he did his best.

In retirement, Sam and Patricia traveled extensively and spent many months out West exploring all those mountain and desert landscapes he had yearned for since childhood. He continued to play bridge with the men from down the street and in recent years with the “old ladies” at the senior citizen center in Pascagoula. The old cattle farm in Phoenix was now a hardwood timber property, and he enjoyed visiting the land and reminiscing about cold winter mornings and being stuck with all the hardest jobs as an eight year-old while the adults stood around “directing traffic.” He reveled in the birth of each of his four grandchildren, lived vicariously through their achievements, and spent as much time with them as possible. In 2018, he and Patricia finally decided it was safe to move again, and came to Ridgeland.

For the final year of his life, Sam struggled with his health. He endured multiple surgeries and lengthy hospital stays, made especially difficult thanks to visiting restrictions caused by Covid, but he resolutely battled out of love for his wife and family. He watched a lot of baseball, enjoyed the beautiful scenery shown on BBC, and listened to so much Hank Williams that he may have been ready to reconsider Elvis. He made sure every doctor, nurse and family member took note of his stellar blood pressure and obstinate lack of fever, no matter how much his body was attacked, educated them on the ’48 Red Sox, and discussed the growth patterns of oak trees. He even gave a few Rubik’s cube lessons. He endured it all and somehow made it home for Christmas. Early spring found him on the back porch watching flowers come out with Patricia. He often talked about how proud he was and how much he loved each of his children and grandchildren.

Sam is survived by his wife Patricia, his children Susan Roush, Bill White (Vivi), Ben White (Christy) and Nancy Maxwell, and his grandchildren Charlie Roush II, Jack Roush, Ellinor Maxwell and Elle White.

Graveside services will be held Thursday, April 7, 2022, at Parkway Memorial Cemetery in Ridgeland, Mississippi. The family asks, for those who are so moved, that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to the Make-a-Wish Mississippi Chapter in memory of Sam White. Donations can be made online at www.ms.wish.org, by phone 601-366-9474 or mailed to 607 Highland Colony Parkway, Ste. 100 Ridgeland, MS 39157.