Thomas Walsh, September 22, 2020

Thomas J. Walsh, Jr. died of pancreatic cancer on September 22 at his home in Memphis. He was 72.

A lifelong Memphian, he worked, almost until his death, writing appellate briefs on labor law for the firm FordHarrison LLP. He was honored as Top Appellate Attorney in the Mid-South in 2019 and as Attorney for Justice by the Tennessee Supreme Court in 2018. He was proud of his own writing and enjoyed teaching others, both high school students and professional colleagues.

He was even prouder of his two very accomplished daughters, Meredith Walsh and Courtney March who remembers being taught to sing Bulldog when she was barely out of the crib. His wife of 47 years, Jeanne McKee, who had been a classmate at Kingsbury High School in Memphis, died after a long illness in 2016.

After he graduated from Yale, Tom taught for three years at an inner-city high school in Memphis, and then went on to the University of Virginia Law School, which awarded him a J.D. in 1975.  He returned to Memphis after graduation, where he practiced law, taught at University of Memphis Law School, and volunteered through church and other community groups. He was active in Yale alumni activities there, and regularly interviewed and encouraged students to apply.

“I arrived at Yale as a shy, socially awkward 17-year-old, from a Southern family of very modest means,” he wrote in the first sentence of his essay for the 50^th reunion book. This is an old-fashioned way of opening a story of adventure and discovery, as Tom, an English major, knew. “I was about as green as they come and I think I knew it,” he says.

The story Tom recounted was of finding a wider world in New Haven. He had long been deeply religious, but Yale in the Coffin era provoked him to reshape his faith to emphasize issues of peace and social justice. But then the journey took him back to Memphis, where he waged a lifelong campaign for his church and community toward a liberal, inclusive vision of Christian values. These struggles, more often than not unsuccessful, were what we talked about during our infrequent telephone conversations over the years.

When he called one day last summer, his voice was as always, soft and even. “It looks as if you will be the last of us left,” he said. I knew he was referring to the four of us who arrived as freshmen to 1088 Bingham Hall in September 1965. Two, Eric Prosnitz and Dick McKay had already died, and Tom was calling, to tell me in his usual indirect though earnest way, that he had received a fatal diagnosis.

“There really isn’t anything that can be done,” he told me of his disease. He sounded to me no different than he had as a green youth half a century ago. He sounded quietly confident that he lived the life he should have lived. He had raised a family to be proud of and had worked to make things a little better.

He was, above all, steady. He grew up focused on family, church and school, and he replicated it with his own long marriage and two daughters whose lives of service expanded his own social vision. And gave him grandchildren besides.

One of our classmates in Silliman, Harvey Prussin, liked to say that Tom had “a flair for the bland,” a slightly unkind comment that nevertheless admits that there was a flair. He had a twinkle in his eyes, a half smile on his lips and a suggestion he might surprise. He loved being part of a raucous and risqué marching band at Saturday’s football games.  And his bursary job was cataloging and processing the notorious posture pictures, so you knew he had your number.

One spring morning I was awakened by a lot of crackling and chattering in the ground floor double we shared on the Silliman courtyard. A squirrel was standing on a high bookshelf, devouring the pricey box of junk food that Tom’s mother had ordered from the student agency as an exam period survival kit. I jumped from bed, shooed away the squirrel and was standing with the box in my hand when Tom returned from the shower.

He didn’t seem angry or upset. “You know,” he said evenly, examining the remains of bitten brownies and shredded cellophane. “I would have let you have some if you had only asked.” I told him about the squirrel, but he only nodded skeptically. “I only wish you had been a little neater,” he said.

He never admitted to believing me about the squirrel, though the matter came up several more times over the years. I really think he did, and it was his idea of a joke, quiet and slow-burning. But now he’s gone, and I will never know for sure.

– Tom Hine

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from Legacy.com

Thomas James Walsh Jr, 72, passed away at home on September 22, 2020 after a brief battle with pancreatic cancer. A true son of Memphis, Tom was born on October 22, 1947 and graduated from Kingsbury High School in 1965. He left only briefly, first for college at Yale University (1969) and then for law school at the University of Virginia (1975). He married fellow Kingsbury graduate Jean McKee in 1969. Tom and Jean led a storied life together in Memphis until her death in 2016 just after their 47th wedding anniversary. He grew up attending Berclair Baptist Church, and he and Jean raised their girls at Prescott Memorial Baptist Church. He was most recently an active member of Shady Grove Presbyterian Church.

Tom’s legal career included both paid and pro-bono cases. He was employed by FordHarrison LLP and named Top Appellate Attorney in the Mid-South in 2019. Six of his cases reached the US Supreme Court, including decisions that helped define the Americans With Disabilities Act. He was recognized as an “Attorney for Justice” by the Tennessee Supreme Court in 2018 and 2019. Tom taught at the University of Memphis Law School and facilitated writing workshops for both students and practicing attorneys.

His was a life of service. Tom shared his gifts as a teacher and writer, leading adult Sunday School classes and mentoring and tutoring in public elementary schools. With Christ’s teachings as his guide, Tom was a tireless advocate for peace and justice issues including work for racial equality, lifting up refugees and immigrants, feeding the hungry and fighting voter suppression. The son of a World War II Navy veteran, he prioritized telling veteran stories of those from the Greatest Generation. He volunteered with the Yale Club of Memphis and was a charter member of the National Civil Rights Museum. Tom previously served on the board of the Baptist Peace Fellowship of North America. He sang in the choir and served on the Nurture Team at Shady Grove Presbyterian Church.

Tom and Jean spent most summer nights watching the Memphis Redbirds, and Section 108 will not be the same without them. In addition to a passion for baseball, Tom loved popcorn, movies, trivia, travel and books. He was an avid photographer and kept the greeting card industry afloat, sending cards far and wide. He enjoyed live theatre, had season tickets to Theatre Memphis and often attended performances at Hattiloo Theatre and The Orpheum. In his 60s, Tom learned to kayak, became a lap swimmer and even went to spin class. He poured his heart into the interests of his daughters and granddaughters, who were his pride and joy.

Tom was preceded in death by his parents Thomas Walsh Sr and Lois Gibson Walsh and by his beloved wife Jean McKee Walsh. He is survived by his daughters Courtney Marsh (Peter) of Fairfax, VA, and Meredith Walsh (Kyle Tingley) of Memphis. He also leaves four granddaughters Molly, Rebecca, Amelia and Moxie; they will miss his stories, his hugs, trips to the zoo and watching baseball games together. He leaves a brother Bailey Walsh (Mary) of Williamsburg, VA and a sister Barbara Palmer of Olive Branch, MS, many nieces, nephews, cousins and a strong community of friends.

Tom donated his remains to the Genesis Legacy Foundation for medical research. An in-person memorial is postponed at this time. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to Shady Grove Presbyterian Church. The family also urges those celebrating Tom’s life to engage in acts of service that strengthen our community and give voice to the voiceless.