A tribute to Uncle Clarence Fisher by Max Youngblood

My brother Max wrote the following in memory of Clarence Fisher our uncle who married our father’s sister Aunt Loradean. We all loved and miss him very much; and I think you will enjoy reading this tribute. This article is presented without editing just as Max wrote it.

Have you ever thought about how remarkable the human hand is? One of my favorite past times is, observing people and watching the story they tell with their hands. Our hand is God’s most important tool he has given us in order to survive here on earth and carry out the assignment he expects from each and every one of us until he calls us to his heavenly home. We as individuals have our favorites and I would like to tell you my story of the man with the magic hands.
As a young child growing up in the Ozarks, I enjoyed going out and spending time with my Uncle Clarence. He was always working on some sort of project and didn’t have much time for idol chatter from a kid, but he always took time for me. I felt like I was his favorite.
This particular day he was sitting on a stool, painting a sign for some customer in the area. You see it was very painful for him to stand because of an old leg injury he had got years prior. But he never complained, only interested in finishing the current task at hand. His every hand movement was magic and something to see. Every stroke, every line was the work of an artist. No movement ever wasted. I was astonished that he never erased anything and at times, I would say to myself, that line surely was a mistake, but you know it never was.
He truly was a man of God and a good family man. He loved his wife and kids and talked about them often. I moved out of the Ozarks when I got older but never failed to visit him and My Aunt Loradean when I came home for a visit. I could set for hours and listen to the funny stories he would tell. The woodcarvings were his pride and joy. The Last Supper, The Wooden Duck, an Indian Warrior that he carved from an old tree standing at the back of his property with a chain saw, and the praying hands with the small finger bent from arthritis was his favorite. I think that this carving was a replica of his own hands that were also bent from years of hard work and arthritis. On March 9th God looked down on his old sick body and decided right then and they’re his mission had been completed and he needed him to come home. Uncle Clarence left us for his final journey to a new home that he had been working for all his life. I will not weep for him because that would be very selfish of me to want him back with all of the pain he was in, here on earth. The clouds in many surrounding areas where he lived have already done that. Uncle Clarence, Thank You for being such an important part of my life. You were always there when I needed you and you also taught me character and self respect. This is the only time in my life that you have failed to make me smile. I will look for your shining star in the universe. It will be easy to identify because of its brightness and perfection. I’ll never forget your magic hands and will love you forever.

Max Youngblood
Nephew