Part 5
On Tuesday, at his service, I stood and read the eulogy I had written. It was the only way I knew to honor both men — the one the community respected and the one we called Dad. Both were real. Both mattered. And both were being laid to rest that day.
Here is the eulogy I shared…
I’m Becky, Bobby’s youngest daughter. Thank you for coming today.
Dad was well known by all in Henderson County. He was born in the Blue Goose Community and he was so proud to live and call Lexington home.
Dad was raised by his Granny Hemby, my great grandmother, in simple and humble beginnings. Growing up, we lived beside her and next to her was my grandmother, dad’s mom, Ola. Dad’s dad, John Henry, died at a very young age.
Dad’s fondest memories were of going hunting with this dad out in Blue Goose. That was where he got his love of hunting and outdoors which he carried all his life.
One of the things unique about dad was his lifelong friends- Class of ’63. He maintained those friendships all his life – like Johnny, Danny and many others.
Dad started selling life & health insurance after high school with Life of Georgia. I still remember him carrying me as a very little girl to the Jackson office and out on sales calls.
In the mid-80’s, he went out on his own starting Cogdell Insurance Agency in a little two room building that my great uncle Vaughn L Gardner built but that was all he needed. His motto was “Service is our Policy” and he excelled in that every day for his clients. Dad advocated for his clients and when a client came in with a problem where an insurance company made a mistake, it was nothing for dad to call them up and give them a talking to! He loved his clients and this community.
Dad served as an Alderman for many years and created scholarships in his dad’s name and several other Cogdells to carry on the legacy of the Cogdell name. God used dad’s strengths to bless others.
Standing here in First Baptist, which we started attending in the mid-80s, he was a proud member of the Jack Hay Sunday School class which he enjoyed most of his life, building friendships with the men in that class.
Later in life, he met Shirley and dad called her his soul mate. Together for 18 years and always by his side. In dad’s final months I watched her beautifully care for Dad, so sacrificially. Dad wanted her by his side every minute. Thank you for caring for him. He loved you so much.
Stephanie & Michael – thank you for how you loved him. Steph as the first grandchild you had a special connection with dad and he loved you like no one else in his life – Fiestola Brown.
As his daughter looking back on his life, I see the full tapestry of dad’s life. I see how he loved the people of Henderson County and lived to serve them. I also see a life full of complexities – joys & sufferings, peaks & valleys and crosses he carried since childhood.
Dad had learned a certain toughness early in life and we did as well. Dad once told my husband that “it’s hard being one of my kids”. When he told my husband Jeremy, that I think he also knew that being married to one of his kids also required a certain level of toughness because we had a lot of dad in us!
Dad was a man of strong will and firm opinions so it’s no surprise he raised four children – Felecia, Lee, Chris and me – who were strong willed and had firm opinions! Yet somehow he was always surprised.
But through it all, I never stopped loving him. Loving him as only his baby girl could.
1 Thess 5:21 says “Hold onto the good” so that’s what I’ll do.
Dad was proud to say he’ll never swing a golf club or own a debit card. He also said he’d never own a cell phone but once he got one, he was on it constantly!
Growing up Dad would listen to us sing Beulah Land – Felecia played the piano, mom, Felecia, Lee, Chris and I would sing. Dad would say he “made a joyful noise to the Lord”.
He loved history and collecting stamps and coins. Always saving pieces of paper and newspaper clippings. In the past month, I found a box in their attic where dad had kept every card and note he’d received in the past 30+ years from his children and friends.
He never let us watch Bambi growing up because he said it made deer hunters look bad and to this day, I’ve never watched it.
Dad was so proud to be a Cogdell.
When it was just the two us at home, he’d head out on his bicycle and say I’ll call you once I get somewhere and come pick me up in the truck. I never knew where he would be, and this was before cell phones. I’d get the call and head to Camden McDonalds to pick him up!
He loved milk and would go through a gallon a day. Even in his final weeks.
Dad was a jokester. Always pulling pranks and being funny. Last week Dad was telling me & Shirley he was going to town to see his “girlfriend”. We played along and he was saying the only girlfriend that mattered so finally Shirley said, “Well who is that?” and Dad replied, “Her name is Shirley.”
He did things his own way all his life. When he would drop me off at Caywood he would go in the Exit because he hated sitting in the carline traffic. We’re having the service at 1pm because that’s what Dad specified.
Dad was always giving people nicknames. In high school he said one morning I’m going to call you Clyde and I said Bull and he said yes “Clyde Bull”. And he called me that for years to come.
For as long as I can remember, Dad always wrote his name and phone number on all his tools and equipment – started out “Bobby Cogdell 901-968-8629” for those that remember when Lexington had the 901 area code then it changed over the years to his mobile number. It was a good thing he did this because one time someone borrowed a ladder and didn’t give it back then it ended up at a pawn shop and they immediately knew who to call because it was BOLDLY written on it.
Over the past few days I’ve heard countless stories of how Dad helped people – taking them to the hospital or veterans center in Nashville, saving them money on insurance and solving problems. That is truly his legacy – Service WAS his policy. Love you Dad always.
At the end of the eulogy, my great nephew wrote Dad’s name and phone number on his casket with a black marker. It was my husband’s idea, and it was so Dad. It was what Dad would have done if he could have! We had sunflowers on the spray because he always planted sunflowers every year.
We laid him to rest at our family cemetery in the community where he was born, raised and died.
I loved him and always will like no one else. I had questioned in recent weeks whether or not he loved me but that wasn’t a question worth asking. I was loved. Loved by a heavenly Father who never turned his back on me. Loved by my husband and children. Fiercely loved by my brother and sister. Loved by my nieces and great nephews and nieces. Loved by my dear friends, coworkers and neighbors. I was loved and I felt it. That was enough.
That day, I knew the eulogy had to be more than a tribute. It was my way of standing for our family and giving voice to the father we knew — not just the man the community admired. In that moment, I felt the weight of representing us, and I found peace knowing both men — the one everyone knew and the one we carried in our own stories — were remembered and laid to rest together.
As they say in Steel Magnolias… “life goes on”.