Dennis Marlow

By 1933, the worst economic crisis in the United States’ history, the great depression, had entered its fourth devastating year. There were 13 million workers who had lost jobs. Nearly one in every four farmers had lost their land and their homes. Between 1933 and 1945, nearly every aspect of American life was strained and uprooted. But in the midst of these turbulent times, Ike and Haley Marlow welcomed into this world their fourth child, Dennis, the morning of Tuesday, June 13, 1933, in a log cabin located in Clinchmore, Tennessee. As the middle child of seven children, over the years Dennis provided a sense of balance within the family. As a child, he was even-tempered, and somewhat shy, but mischievous. However, with his boyish good looks and friendly disposition, friends were easily made which served him well for the remainder of his life. Tragically, September 28, 1944, at 11 years old, Dennis lost his father in a coal mining accident. This was a devastating event for the family. It was not long until Dennis realized he must take on a more responsible role within the family. He left school and began working in the timber business cutting and hauling virgin wood from the Cumberland Mountains to help in the support of his family. In later years, Dennis realized he had a knack for sales. It was not uncommon for him to take a bus to Knoxville, Tennessee and purchase watches, rings, etc. from local pawn shops and resell them back home. He also utilized his talents selling cars. This also proved successful as the Motor Vehicle Department of Tennessee sent a letter advising him because of the high volume of cars being sold, he would be required to obtain a business license. Instead, he elected to pursue other interests and get a job out of the mountains. November 1952, Dennis began working for the Harlan Electrical Company in Oak Ridge, Tennessee while studying to become an electrician. However, “Uncle Sam” had other plans, and on December 1953 Dennis was drafted into the Army during the Korean War. Upon his arrival for deployment, Dennis was informed that due to his family’s circumstances and the hardship enlistment would cause, he did not have to serve. However, Dennis was never one to shirk responsibility, so he elected to serve his country and instead sent home a portion of his military pay to help with the family’s needs. Dennis was stationed at Fort Gordon in Augusta, Georgia where he was assigned the role of Communications Instructor. He later confessed he was nervous speaking in front of a large group of people but met the challenge head-on and was liked and respected by all ranks of the military. He also managed the on-base theatre where he had the opportunity to meet virtually everyone assigned on base, and while there purchased his infamous Tropical Rose and Snowshoe White 1955 Ford Crown Victoria. (He always liked flashy cars!) During his military tenure, he was elected “Soldier of the Month” and was asked by his superiors to enroll for another four-year stint or even make a career in military service. However, Dennis had other plans and on December 1, 1955 was honorably discharged as a Sergeant. Upon Dennis’ arrival back home, it was not long until he was ready to pursue another career. The studies he had pursued prior to the military draft and the skills he had acquired during military service were put to good use when he began a career with the Southern Railway Company on February 2, 1956. Dennis worked in various capacities within the Communications Department and retired as a Communications Engineer with 39 ½ years of distinguished service on June 15, 1995. July 21, 1956, Dennis finally had the opportunity to meet a pretty brunette he had previously noticed around town. This pretty brunette was Margaret Lenora Melton. As fate would have it, her cousin, Dave, had invited Dennis to a going-away party. Dave was in the Navy and was being stationed in California. It was at this party where Dennis and Margaret were formally introduced and quickly became inseparable. July 1, 1958, they were married in Ringgold, Georgia. Their union produced three daughters: Melanie Denise, Cynthia Elaine, and Valerie Michelle. They are also the proud grandparents of Hannah Elizabeth Hunter Warner, Jacob Tyler Hunter, Alexis Margaret Lowery, and Ashton Elizabeth Lowery. They are also blessed to have three wonderful sons-in-law: John Joseph Lynch, Philip Bryan Hunter, and James Edward Lowery. Since a young man, Dennis was ambitious and always had a side-line business. A couple of his endeavors were: Metro Electronics which specialized in repairing various electronic devices and later engineered and installed sound systems for churches, skating rinks, and other venues along with surveillance systems for law enforcement agencies. At one point, engineers from General Motors visited Dennis. They had noted from warranty records this “guy in Georgia” had been able to fix a recurring problem they were struggling to resolve regarding the Wonder-Bar radio installed in their luxury automobiles. After their meeting, he was offered a position with General Motors but declined to remain with the railroad and build his business. Dennis’ interests waned in electronics, and he was ready for a new challenge. In 1981 he founded Georgia Industrial Equipment. This new venture specialized in purchasing used industrial equipment which he brokered to customers throughout the United States and select international locations. He continued in this capacity until his final retirement in May 2010. Dennis will always be remembered fondly for many things. First and foremost, the love and respect for his wife, daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren. He worked tirelessly to provide everything his family needed and virtually everything they wanted. His family could not have asked for a better provider and protector. One would be remiss if they did not mention Dennis’ generosity, even temperament, the twinkle of mischievous in his eyes, and his great sense of humor. He also had an enduring smile that was contagious. In fact, he was a joy to be around and everywhere he would go, people would strike up a conversation with him because they personally knew him or wanted to get acquainted. He brought joy, happiness, and laughter to many people during the course of his life. Dennis came from very humble beginnings, but he never forgot where he came from. He was always willing to share with family, friends, and strangers the blessings God had bestowed upon him. I am sure many of you could share your own stories of his generosity, good nature, and humor. Dennis left behind a great example which one should take heed and follow. During his life, he endured hardships, but he never gave up! He was a strong-willed man and was never satisfied with mediocre results. Time and time again, he turned lemons into lemonade. He was a man with diverse intellect, high moral standards, a strong work ethic, unconditional love for his family and love for his fellow man without prejudice. Dennis will be greatly missed, but he now takes a well-deserved rest until resurrected at Christ’s return to this earth. It will be interesting to see what responsibilities he is assigned when God establishes his kingdom…where there will be no more sorrow or death…may God speed that day! Memories of Dadaw Dennis Marlow was a man of many aliases. Some knew him simply by Dennis or Marlow, some called him Tennessee, but if you truly knew him, you’d know he was more often and aptly called Dennis the Menace. Some of his favorite past times were telling stories and jokes until the cows came home, eating Little Debbie Oatmeal Raisin pies and Hershey’s Chocolate WITH almonds, driving 100mph in his big red truck, wheeling and dealing, but I know without a doubt that one of his favorites was antagonizing his “Lenorie” every chance he got. He’d do it just to ruffle her feathers and see the vein stand up in her neck and hear her yell “Dennis!!” He’d just snicker and grin knowing that his mission was accomplished. Above all else though, the names he was most proud of were Daddy and Dadaw. His children and grandchildren were and still are the greatest blessings he ever received, and he showed that through his endless generosity and love. Dadaw was a man unlike any other and without a doubt, he was one of the greatest men to ever walk the face of the earth. His character was rock solid, only outmatched by his work ethic and resolve to be the best at what he was doing. He was generous, almost to a fault, and I really don’t think he ever met a stranger in his life. He had an uncanny knack for talking to people and he could probably sell a glass of water to a drowning man. He taught me so many lessons I could never begin to list all of them, but the ones that always stick out in my mind are to always be generous, but never give money you can’t afford to lose, never be afraid of working hard so you can have what you need and give even more, life is too short to take it too seriously, and most importantly, love those around you while you have the chance. There are so many stories and things I could tell you about him that it would take years to get through them all, but for the sake of brevity (and so I can get through this) I’ll only tell a few. I will never forget going to the Feast every year in Panama City Beach, FL. It was always somewhat of a tradition when all of us grandkids were young, we’d go to the arcade at least once while we were down there. Every time we’d go, we’d bolt through the doors of the arcade with money in hand and head for the first games that would catch our eyes. We’d try to win as many tickets as we could so we could get a bag full of junky toys that we were just dying for. Dadaw would always seem to find his way over to one game: Aftershock. The man had a gift for that game. It was like clockwork. He’d put in a quarter and in no time, the game would be spitting out a sea of tickets that dwarfed the pile of tickets each of us grandkids had. He’d divvy all of them up between the four of us so we could get whatever prize we were hoping for, whether that be a sticky hand, some Bubba teeth, a bag of candy we get our own REAL Bubba teeth with, or some stuffed animal. It just made him happy to see us getting things that we wanted. He was always known for his love of vehicles (which is probably where Mama and I get it from), but even more so from the loud colors he always picked. He had his ’55 Crown Vic in Tropical Rose and Snowshoe White and his orange Cadillac he would take to the Vols football games, but when I was growing up, you could always find him in his fire engine red Ford pickup with a Roadrunner sticker on the back window. I always thought it was just a color he liked, but come to find out, that wasn’t quite the case. When he was looking to buy a new truck back in the early 90s, he polled his 5-year-old granddaughter, Hannah, to see what color truck he should get. Hannah, on a whim, blurted out that he should get a red truck and left it at that. Dadaw being the man he was wasn’t one to disappoint his grandkids, so what did he do? He went out and bought a red Ford F150, brand new off the lot, just as he’d been instructed by his bossy little granddaughter and he couldn’t have been more proud of it. Another favorite of mine is the trip we took to Dollywood and the infamous Thunderhead rollercoaster. Being the fun-loving guy he was, Dadaw didn’t shy away from riding any ride we wanted him to, and that goes for rollercoasters too. Daddy and I loaded up in the two seats in the front of the car and Hannah and Dadaw got in the two seats behind us. From the second the rollercoaster started moving, Hannah didn’t stop screaming at the top of her lungs until that ride came to a complete stop. I think we were all partially deaf before we even left the station. Even through all the dips, turns and hills and the squealing coming from the seat next to him, Dadaw sat there so calm and collected like he was riding in a car down the interstate. I’ll always remember his ability to talk his way out of speeding tickets through pure honesty, the way he always seemed to be winning some kind of jackpot from a scratch-off lottery ticket, the way he’d get so tickled at things and wheeze and cover his mouth like he shouldn’t be laughing at it, working on tearing apart some old piece of equipment with him that he was going to turn for a profit, him always taking me to Blockbuster to rent a videogame when I came over to spend the night or going to get ice cream at Dairy Queen, him sitting on the edge of his leather recliner teaching us lessons about life or telling some joke he’d told a million times before but somehow it was still funny to us, the way he’d get into it whenever Honky Tonk Women or You Sexy Thing would come on the radio. I find myself saying the same things he used to say (Feed me or fight me, Four on the floor and a fifth in the glovebox, Too broke to pay attention let alone the bill, Tear out of here like a heard of goats or drag out of here like an alligator, and This’ll hold me until I can find something better) and it always makes me smile thinking about him. I’ve been blessed to have had such an excellent example set for me, and I thank God for giving me such a fantastic grandfather to spend so many years with and have so many fond memories of. I’ve always been told that if I turned out to be half the man he was, I’d be in good shape, but I can tell you from firsthand experience, even at ½ those are some big shoes to fill. It scares me to think of living the rest of my life without him around because there are so many things I didn’t get to ask him and learn from him, but I am so thankful for the things I did get from him. He was and always will be one of the biggest influences on me and all the others that knew him, and I will sorely miss him, albeit just a little while in the grand scheme of things. I look forward to the hope and promise of the coming Kingdom of God when I get to see him again; when I’ll get to hug him and tell him about all the things I’ve done in life and get to hear that unmistakable laugh and see those eyes of his squint up as he smiles.