Maurice E. Davis
August 29, 1925 ~ June 7, 2019
Maurice E. Davis, 93, a member of Oakwood Baptist Church, passed away on June 7, 2019. He was born in Austin, Texas, on August 29, 1925. He was a beloved father, grandfather, and great-grandfather and he will be greatly missed.
Maurice was preceded in death by his parents, Arthur Lee and Sue Davis, and his two siblings, Marvin Davis and Mable Raup. He is survived by his wife of 53 years, Judith Davis, and their children, Scarlett Davis Spivey (Ray), Brooks Davis (Laurie), Michael Rollie Davis, Patrick Davis (Jennifer), Peter O’Heeron (Angela), and Dawn Davis Loring and her partner, Steven Austin. Maurice also leaves behind his grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and numerous nieces and nephews.
Maurice joined the Navy during World War II and returned to Austin following his service, graduating from the University of Texas under the GI bill in 1949. He worked at the Texas Health Department and retired to New Braunfels in 1994, splitting his time between traveling with Judith and volunteering for local organizations including McKenna Memorial Hospital, New Braunfels Chamber of Commerce, Friends of the Library, The Children’s Museum, and the Senior Center. One of his favorite post-retirement jobs was working as a greeter at Schlitterbahn. He enjoyed crossword puzzles, old movies, football, and chocolate above all.
Maurice was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2012 and was admitted to New Braunfels Memory Care in 2016. In November 2018, he was placed in the care of Hope Hospice. He was loved by all involved in his care and his family is very grateful for both organizations. The family would also like to thank Dr. James Bartay and Dr. Mark Burns and their staff for over 25 years of care. His funeral service will be held at 10:30 AM on Friday, June 14, 2019 at Oakwood Baptist Church, followed by a reception. Private interment with military honors at Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery will be held at a later date. In lieu of flowers, the family requests memorial donations be made to Hope Hospice of New Braunfels or to Oakwood Baptist Church.
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We miss you so much. Judith
Dear Judy, We send heartfelt condolences to you & your family for your loss. Maurice was friendly to many and will be missed by all. The friendly competition we shared between the Navy vs. Air Force, Univ. Texas vs. Univ. Texas A & M, was fun for us for many years. May God be with you during this time and always.
Love,
Jack & Diana Doran
Aunt Judy and Dawn,
I have very fond memories of Uncle Maurice both as a child and an adult. I remember his kind gentle spirit when all the kids were at the house on Persimmon street playing kickball or riding bikes. He was always welcoming to me an my family as I got older into his home in New Braunfels. I know he is in peace now and send my love to you both during this time.
Copy of the eulogy I delivered at the service:
My dad was a shy introvert – hard to get to know, but totally worth the effort. If he felt comfortable around you, he would tell you stories of his experience growing up in Depression-era Austin or what it was like being stationed in Hawaii during WWII.
He had so many jokes and sayings that were mostly for his own amusement, but if you really listened to them, they were quietly funny and they stuck with you.
I find myself repeating these sayings all the time.
**Each day was “Just another day of riotous living”
**When thanking one for a favor – “you’re all heart…liver…lungs…”
**Stories of his youth were prefaced with “…well when I was a little girl…” and “…back in ’01 and ’02…”
**Every month began with the “oneth of the month”
**After school he would say, “Did you learn it all or do you have to go back again tomorrow?”
He enjoyed crosswords and old movies and football, and chocolate, above all. He knew the names of all the movie stars in classic films. He was completely fine in his own company and he was always neatly dressed with a real cloth handkerchief folded in his pocket and a pen for taking notes. He had a short fuse and an inner fire, both of which I inherited.
The Great Depression made its mark on him and he always made sure we had all of the basics – especially toilet paper. He wanted very little, asked for nothing, and often got it. He raised two families, and was solid, dependable, and he respected women. He adored my mom with a quiet fervor for over 50 years.
He taught me to act honorably, to be thrifty, to be willing to do the hard work, and to treat everyone well and equally. He was devout, but never pushy about his faith. He was fully supportive of my wish to be a dance professional, videotaping all of the dance concerts I produced and attending all of the shows I danced in, even when he left scratching his head, wondering what just happened. He always thought my dance teaching clothes looked like pajamas, and told me so with great regularity.
He was a slow driver and kinda OCD, but when I was a teenager, he made some of his idiosyncrasies into a joke. His list before retiring for the night was – “Turn off the lights and the fan and don’t microwave the cups” – a list that became longer and longer as the years passed. We got to re-visit that list in 2011, when Blackstone and I moved back in with Mom and Dad after returning from London. Bee and I lived with them for four years and he and Mom sat with me as I cried and they listened to me recount my failures. He gave me the best four words of advice – “This, too, shall pass” – and he was right.
And I take those words to heart as I mourn the final loss of my dad, Maurice. I think of how much I will miss him, how much I have missed him since he began slipping away from us a few years ago. The many deaths of Alzheimer’s has taught me that you can’t hold on to the person you knew, you have to accept the person they are that day and enjoy them for as long as you get to have them. I am so honored that I was able to be there for his final days and to support him while he transitioned. I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I know if he could have, he would have cracked a joke about all of it. Perhaps he would have finally come clean to Mom about how we really “lost” the fondue pot in the move to Austin. But that will just have to be our secret. Rest easy, Dad, and thank you for taking that bee sting for me all those years ago.