The "New" Burkett Family Web Site
Obituary Archives – 1995
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Bessie L. Bryant Burkett Huntsville Times, The, June 4, 1995
NEW MARKET -- Mrs. Bessie Lee Burkett, 82, of New Market died Friday at a Huntsville hospital. The funeral will be Monday at 1 p.m. at Spry Funeral Home Chapel in Huntsville with Donald Ramey, Bill Cantrell and Bill Phillips officiating. Burial will be in Maple Hill Cemetery in Huntsville. Mrs. Burkett, a native of Lois, Tenn., was a lifelong resident of Madison County. She was a member of Union Grove Church of Christ. Survivors include three daughters, Betty Stephens of Huntsville, Brenda Elders of Marietta, Ohio, and Deborah Howard of New Market; a son, William L. "Buddy" Burkett of Huntsville; two sisters, Lillian Moinette of Ardmore, Okla., and Wilma Rich of Griffith, Ind.; and eight grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren. Memorial donations may be made to the Diabetic Foundation or a favorite church. Visitation will be tonight from 5 to 9 at the funeral home.
Huntsville Times, The (AL) - Sunday, June 4, 1995
ALSO
Bessie L. Bryant Burkett Huntsville Times, The, June 6, 1995
The whole neighborhood showed up when she made her famous tamales. Not just those who lived next door and across the street, either, but those who lived farther down Halsey Avenue, plus a few from around on O'Shaughnessy. Some who should know said she was "the best cook" they ever saw, which explains why her tamales were regarded as a specialty in that corner of the Dallas Mill village. It didn't matter if she used meat from a store or from rabbits her husband hunted, her tamales always turned out the same -- too good to be true and too tasty to be missed. Of course she had some kind of secret recipe. All the great ones do. But whatever her secret was it's safe now, because it went to heaven with her. Bessie Lee Burkett couldn't stand being without her husband, J.B., which is why most of us believe she went to be with him six weeks, to the day, after he died in a car accident April 21. We could not help but notice, those of us gathered there on a gentle slope in Maple Hill, how fresh the dirt on his grave still looked. On that soft April afternoon when her husband was laid to rest, Mrs. Burkett told one of her daughters, "I won't live long." She was hardly being a prophet of doom. She was stating her heart's desire. Many have said to me since Bessie Burkett's death that husbands and wives who've lived together for a long time often find it hard to carry on when a spouse dies, and I suppose this is simply more proof. J.B. and Bessie had been married 62 years at his death, and those of us at his funeral could tell she was taking it hard. Her children were grown and gone and the man she had lived with for six decades had left her, too. In her mind, I suppose there was only one alternative. Maybe a prayer was being answered. Doctors said the deadly infection worked fast, and was of such strength a person much younger than Mrs. Burkett's 82 years couldn't have resisted. I do know everyone at the funeral home agreed there was a look of peace on her face they hadn't seen in years. When she was at her best, Bessie Burkett was a fun-loving woman whose sense of humor took a back seat to none. While he was cutting wood with an ax, one of her brothers accidentally chopped off three fingers on her right hand when she was a child. As a grown woman, she'd put a serious look on her face and tell children her brother "chopped my hand off" when she was a child. Naturally, they'd be scared to death and hoped they never had to meet this mean old man until she laughingly told the truth. Losing those fingers never kept her from sewing and quilting and being one of those old-fashioned mothers who have wonderful stories told about them when they die. I bet J.B. met her at the Pearly Gates with a great big kiss, and I bet Leroy Elders and Bud Barlow and a bunch of others from her old neighborhood in Dallas village were right behind asking when the tamales would be ready.
Huntsville Times, The (AL) - Tuesday, June
6, 1995 |
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