In his relaxed drawl he can walk you through family portraits, damaged during storage, but enduring with stories of his family’s fascinating past, including the one of an uncle who died during the flu epidemic of the early 1900s. Another was killed in France during World War I. His great grandparents on both his mother’s and his father’s side are immortalized in his portrait collection. His own children in their youth are among the photos, a son and two daughters, one of whom passed away before her twelfth birthday from an illness that destroys brain function called Reye’s syndrome. She is truly captured and suspended eternally in the innocence and beauty of childhood.

“That picture was taken in October and she died in February.”

Mr. Morris and his wife got through the ordeal with the help of their church and community friends, and their Christian faith.

“It was hard to give up a daughter, but I had two more (children) to take care of and the good Lord doesn’t tell you how long you can have ‘em, but we enjoyed her for 11 years. She was a very vivacious person.”

Like daughter like father. Should you meet him, don’t let the slow drawl fool you, here is a man who keeps busy, who is largely defined by his service to others.

The love story begins when he was 24 and he met his wife Gaynell. He was working for the Forestry Department doing road maintenance, and Nell, as she liked to be called, also 24, was working as a housekeeper for a family in which the lady of the house had fallen ill. Serendipitously, the gentleman of the house invited Crockett’s crew to stay at his home for a week. She cooked the crew breakfast every morning, solidifying her status as an excellent cook, and beginning a courtship with Crockett Morris that would last a lifetime.

It only took 6 months for Crockett to propose marriage to Nell. They had a tiny wedding in the reverend’s home with a friend of Nell’s standing in as witness. From there, Crockett relocated them to be near Virginia Polytechnic Institute, to pursue his college dreams, made real by the G.I. Bill. They lived separately for three months, boarding with an elderly woman whose nest had recently emptied, and then took up residence in a trailer park for married students. The trailer cost Mr. Morris $150 and had two extra rooms added. That extra space would prove very valuable very quickly, as Nell soon became pregnant. There were other mothers in the trailer court and Nell began to watch their children along with her new baby girl, Cathy. In her lifetime she probably cared for more than 300 children, including her own (two daughters and a son) until she grew ill in 1994.

Mr. Morris retired from the Forestry Department after 35 years of service. He began volunteering in his community and church, Waverly United Methodist, which he had attended since 1977. He remains dedicated to his church, and through the years has been active in nearly every aspect of it. Someone once said that “he has been an officer or president of everything in there, except the United Methodist Women”, but even they honored him for his work for the mission program with a cross lapel pin and by sending money to missions in his name.

He has also been active in the American Legion and the Waverly Ruritan Club, participating in service projects for youth, gives regularly to St. Andrews, and offers his time to Camp Rainbow Connection, a ministry of the Commission on Disabilities of the Virginia Conference of the United Methodist Church.

When pressed to describe Nell, he is thoughtful, as if giving language to spontaneous thoughts is somehow unjust, inaccurate. His eyes take on a sparkle, or perhaps it’s a tear, as he recalls his blue-eyed wife of 55 years who’d struggled bravely with Alzheimer’s and cancer. He says he could tell right away that she was easy to get to know. She was at home in someone else’s home. He spoke of her skills in ceramics and making clothing, her appreciation for antiques and her involvement in the church, where she quietly served, preferring to work behind the scenes. One gets the sense that this is how Nell lived her life alongside Crockett. They quietly toiled when they needed to toil, they enjoyed good times together and they enriched the lives of others because it is just something they innately did, in keeping with their Christian values. And now, continuing her legacy of quiet generosity, Mr. Morris has sold a house and donated half of the proceeds to Heart Havens. A new home will be built with the money Mr. Morris has donated and it will bear the name of Nell Morris, and stand as a monument to a generous heart and an enduring love.