From Rachel Cadenhead

The time came when John Ramsey’s health and financial condition would no longer allow him to live alone in Tuscaloosa. He was 72 years old, and Parkinson’s disease and diabetes were beginning to take their toll. Further, as John puttered around Tuscaloosa, his little Pacer car was more frequently receiving bumps and dents. Thus, with the consent of both of our sons, who loved Dr. Ramsey like a respected uncle, we decided to invite John to move to Florence and live in our home.

Dr. Ramsey had lived in Tuscaloosa since 1935, and Billy and I began asking ourselves: "Would John even consider leaving Tuscaloosa?"; "Could he adjust to being away from the University and his friends and colleagues?"; "Would he consider leaving his doctor, Dr. John Burnum?" We soon resolved to travel to Tuscaloosa for the sole purpose of inviting Dr. Ramsey to live with us. We sat in his living room at 20½ Audubon Place and talked about everything but the reason for our visit. Finally, either Billy or I "popped the question." We were literally holding our breath, but Dr. Ramsey instantly said, "Yes .... When?"

Between early March and late June, when Dr. Ramsey moved to Florence, Billy and I made five trips to Tuscaloosa. Dr. Ramsey’s friends, Janet and David McElroy, Russell Bryant, Ron Robel, Morris Mayer, Harry Lee, John and Gloria Blackburn, Millie and Ed Holdnak, and others were so helpful in sorting through household items and books (Janet McElroy estimated 2,000 books). They even had a contents sale of his things.

The day came, a very hot one I might add, when Billy and I drove down in a Hertz truck to move some of his furniture, books, records, and clothes. It was an emotional time for all of us as we drove away (the three of us sitting in the cab of that large truck) from Audubon Street on that scorching afternoon, but a wonderful welcome awaited John as we entered our driveway. His new friends and neighbors all came out to greet him. Many of John’s former students who lived in this area and a history professor at the University of North Alabama, Dr. Tom Osborne, were so kind and thoughtful during Dr. Ramsey’s stay in Florence. His reputation had preceded him, and he was sought after as a speaker and reviewer of books, including In Search of History by Theodore H. White.

Billy and I enjoyed Doc’s company every day. His interests were so versatile. He and Billy lived vicariously through the football games on TV, and John and I relished in his broad array of classical music records. Billy and I considered ourselves to be the most fortunate and blessed of all John’s friends because we had him living in our home.

On the day that we invited John to come live with us, he told us that when he became to much of a burden, he would move into a nursing home. After only two years in Florence, John decided that time had come, and he entered a home. Billy and I could not stand John’s absence, and neither could John. Finally, we decided to bring him back home, and he remained with us for another eight or nine months. Regrettably, we could all see that Doc’s health was declining during those last few months. Dr. Lester Hibbett advised us that John needed the care of a nursing facility and advised us to apply (we chose a different place this time). We were soon notified that there was a room available at Mitchell-Hollingsworth, but Billy and I waited until the next morning to tell John. It was such an emotional time for Billy and me, but John, the man of strong character that he was, received the information remarkably well. As I began packing his clothes and necessities, John said, "Rachel, I want to hear the Brahmns First (Symphony)." As the gorgeous music wafted through our house, I did my best to hide my tears.

John adjusted well to the nursing home and soon made friends with all of the staff. Every evening, Billy and I would take him his favorite drink, a Martini. It became a ritual that the three of us looked forward to every night for the next seven months. For a long while John had looked forward to going to Tuscaloosa on Jan. 29, 1983, to celebrate Founders Day of Phi Kappa Psi (his beloved social fraternity). A champagne reception was held at the newly restored fraternity house in honor of John, who had founded the Alabama chapter. Hundreds of Phi Psi Alumni, University faculty and staff, and friends were there. At the banquet, John delivered an eloquent address to his Brothers. John’s last visit to the University proved to be one of the most important days in his life.

On February 16, 1983, intuition told me to change my afternoon plans. I felt that I needed to be with John. I took him a Bloody Mary, apologized for my brief visit, and promised to return later in the afternoon. Less than thirty minutes later, I received the news that John Ramsey had quietly passed away.