James R. Young

his parents, James C and Susie B Young. He is survived by his son, Rick (Dianne)

and daughters Vicki (Dave) and Sherri (Hossein), 5 grandchildren: Heather, Rachel, Holly (Jay), Dawne (Billy), Roya and 5 great-grandchildren: Cody, Danielle, Emmett, Abigail, Adalyn.

Jimmy served in the US Coast Guard and worked almost 40 years for

Tampa Electric Company, before retiring. He was a longtime member of Bay Area Baptist Church and then Carrollwood Baptist Church, serving in the choir and clown ministries there.

Our precious daddy requested that a poem written for him by his daughter, Vicki, on a

recent Father's Day (now with a revised ending), serve as his obituary, and so we are honoring his

wishes with the following:

My Father the Hero

My father, the hero, who has always been larger than life,

Even though he is only five feet nine inches tall,

Who is the first man I ever loved,

Who always loved back, unconditionally.

My father, the hero, who accepted stray pets, when his children wanted one or two,

Who worked from sun-up to sunset, and then

Welcomed his running children and greeted them with warm smiles and open arms,

Even though he was tired at the end of a long work day.

My father, the hero, who taught me how to connect wires, swing a hammer, cut a board,

hit a ball and ride a bike,

Who patiently explained what car parts were, even though he was busy trying to keep

the family car running,

Who sat with me on front door stoop, to watch and listen to the rain,

Sometimes talking, sometimes silent,

But always special.

My father, the hero, who took us to church and taught us to love God,

Who taught us right from wrong, to treat each other as we wanted to be treated

and to say, "I'm sorry,"

Who led the choir, and shared with us a love of good old gospel music,

Who still leads by example, modeling how to be a loving father, faithful husband,

and dutiful son.

My father, the hero, who always provided for his family,

Who was home every night, talked and laughed with us over dinner,

Who took the last remaining precious few coins to put gas in the car at the end

of the week,

Who made sure that his children had lunch money, were able to play on sports teams,

had musical instruments and lessons and what they needed.

My father, the hero, who coached little league,

Who gave standing ovations at his daughter's band and chorus concerts,

Who traveled to football games every Friday night for three years, home and away,

Who came to the rescue at 2:00am when keys were locked in the car,

Who parented without raising his voice.

My father, the hero, who loved my mother, and cared for her with unending devotion,

Who eats his daughter's "meals on wheels" and claims it to be the best food he ever ate,

Who still encourages, listens, supports and loves,

And who, now, wears a crown in heaven,

Adorned with the most jewels,

And has been greeted by the heavenly Father, as he wrapped him in his arms and whispered,

"Welcome home, my son, the hero."

A well-earned celebration of Jimmy's life will be held at later date.