Alvis Lacque Bishop

Papa’s Cracker House Wisdom

Let me tell you a story… This too shall pass. Everything gon’ be alright. Things are marvelous wonderful! There’s a song there somewhere.

You can't roller skate in a buffalo herd - But you can be happy if you've a mind to!

On Monday, July 1, 2024, in the midst of loved ones, Alvis Lacque Bishop, 89, a longtime resident of Osteen, Florida, flew sunward and touched the face of God. Born on February 22, 1935 in Whigham, Georgia, Alvis was affectionately known to family and friends as “Daddy”, “Papa”, or “Uncle Que”, or “Al”, dependent upon whose company he shared. He was known for his eternal optimism, joviality, wit, immense intelligence, and abundance of knowledge. A true Renaissance man, his abilities and interests ran the gamut from agriculture, to mechanics, to aerospace operations, and everything in between Alvis joined the Navy at age seventeen, finding himself on a destroyer as a radio communications operator during the Korean War; this decorated service was the catalyst for an extraordinary aerospace career. After discharge, he and the family settled in at United States Naval Facility (NAVFAC) Eleuthera, Bahamas, where he worked as one of a handful of civilian RCA contractors monitoring the SOSUS arrays tracking Soviet submarines during the early years of the Cold War. After returning stateside, the family landed in Winter Garden, Florida, when a serendipitous choice led them to Satellite beach at the height of the Space Race in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s. From the brinksmanship of the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962, to the early Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo programs - including the Moon Landing in 1969 - and onward to the Shuttle, ISS, and various defense programs, Alvis was immersed in and helped shape the space program as we know it today. He was deeply affected by the Challenger disaster in 1986, often sharing the story of how a depleted drill battery prevented hatch closure, ultimately delaying launch and leading to the tragedy. The family relocated to Geneva in the late 1960’s, and on to Osteen in the early 1970’s, where, in addition to his aerospace career, he operated a lucrative egg farm into the early 1980’s, and settled the family in its current homeplace, where he remained until his passing. He enjoyed vegetable gardening, taking care of his cows, riding around on his “Smurf mobile” blue buggy with his red cup drinks, and hanging out at the shed working on various projects. Especially treasured was time spent enjoying evening toddies and gatherings with family and friends at his Cracker House, which he hand-built from lumber he produced with his sawmill, from trees cut on the property. Alvis didn’t know a stranger, and would often quip with folks when out and about. He gave all he could to provide for and take care of his family, who are honored to have had the sacred privilege of caring for him in his last days. Alvis leaves behind his wife of seventy-one years, Shirley Barfield Bishop, sons Darian (Tonya), Sean (Rachelle), and Marc (Brenda) Bishop, daughter Kimberly Bishop, sister Edith Bishop Strickland, and a multitude of nieces, nephews, grand and great grandchildren, and some really cool grand pups and bovine. He is predeceased by parents Maude Knight Bishop, Rufus Byron Bishop, son Rodney Lynn Bishop, and beloved siblings C.W. Bishop, Wilma Pollar, Erma Elrod, Lillian Roberson, Nina Glover, and Verlon Corbin. A celebration of Alvis’ life will be held on Friday, July 26, 2024 from 12:00 to 3:00 p.m. at Collison- Gramkow- Funeral Home in Sanford, Florida.

High Flight BY JOHN GILLESPIE MAGEE JR.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there, I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air .... Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace Where never lark nor ever eagle flew - And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod The high untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

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