Phillips, Jimmie Grace

March 1, 2926 - Sept. 3, 2020
It was a chance encounter in an Atlanta chicken restaurant in 1984 that set Miss Jimmie on a mission. She watched a hungry man going from table to table eating other people's leftovers. That year happened to be start of the Atlanta Hunger walk, a fundraiser that quickly became a major source of support for the Atlanta Community Food bank. Miss Jimmie started walking then and never stopped. Even at 94, as Covid-19 cancelled the group event, Miss Jimmie pushed her walker around her care home, raising money for the hungry. In all her years of walking, the Atlanta Community Food Bank estimates she raised more than $100,000.
Miss Jimmie understood the importance of saved nickels and quarters. Born in Redan, Georgia, her father died when she was five. In the midst of the depression, her mother had no choice but to send her to Kissimmee, Florida, to live on a farm with her Aunt Ellen and Uncle Grady Babb. Farm work, she learned was "dang hard" and when she graduated from Osceola High School, she was determined to get an education. Moving to Atlanta, she got a job at Standard Oil Company and attended Georgia Tech at night. Completing her studies, she was hired as a cartographer for the state of Georgia. And when the new highway maps that she worked on came out each year, she would make sure that a large stack appeared in the vestibule of her church. "Take one," she insisted. "They're useful. And free."
When Miss Jimmie retired from state government in 1985, her retirement ceremony was moderated by one of her many beloved cats, Sundance. It was for the health of that cat that Miss Jimmie had given up smoking. The cats just seemed to find her and she gave them the home they needed. Among those cats was a favorite, a large orange male she called Ben Hogan. The name was not a coincidence. Miss Jimmie was a lifelong golfer and Ben Hogan her hero. Most amateur golfers are over-the-moon if during a lifetime they manage a single hole-in-one. Miss Jimmie had two of them, both hit with her Ben Hogan six iron.
She rarely bought golf balls; she had a knack for finding balls lost by others. She even found them on Peachtree Street. She gave them away by the bucket to her friends.
Miss Jimmie wasn't perfect. She could be crotchety, and she didn't suffer fools lightly. But she had a soft spot for children. Remembering her own childhood, she was an ardent supporter of the Thornwell Homes and other children's charities. She happily babysat, ran carpools for countless children of her younger friends. She watched their basketball and soccer games, and learned with enthusiasm how to vocally show disdain for a ref's bad call.
Calling out bad decisions was something she was not afraid to do. She served as a ruling elder at Morningside Presbyterian Church, where her deep faith led her to support ordination of gays and lesbians before it became mainstream in the denomination. She would simply ask the important questions that made people uncomfortable. She went on to be a faithful member at Trinity Presbyterian Church, where she served as an usher and greeter, almost never missing a Sunday, but scolding her friends when they did.
With the loss of her parents, Miss Jimmie decided to adopt the family of her best friend, Marcelia Street, as her own. For more than 60 years, Miss Jimmie spent her holidays with the extended Street family. She would call her adopted relatives on the 25th of each month to check in. "Eight months 'til Christmas!" she would announce.
She never forgot where she came from. She had learned on the farm to swing a hammer, to make and to repair things. When her church started building Habitat houses, Miss Jimmie was always there, swinging that hammer. Donations in honor of Miss Jimmie's 85th birthday were sufficient to build two Habitat houses, one in Atlanta and one in Nicaragua.
She attributed her longevity to building a circle of friends who were all younger than herself. For many of those youngsters, she was the surrogate for far-away relatives. When those far away relatives came to visit, she would reassure that her young friends "were doing fine."
At 90, Miss Jimmie was still driving carpool, helping shut-ins get to doctor appointments and church. A few years later, when she had to give up the car, she would ask her volunteer drivers to drop her off several blocks from home. "I need the exercise," she would insist. "You know, getting old ain't for sissies."
Jimmie Grace Phillips was 94. She was preceded in death by her father in 1931 and her mother, Mary Jo Hames, in 1952. She is survived by favorite cousins, Charlene Murray of Davie, Florida and Jeannette Calderon, of Opelika, Alabama, and members of the Street family she adopted as her own, including Margaret, Janet, and Carolyn Thigpen of metro Atlanta.
A funeral service is scheduled for 2 PM, on September 14, at H. M. Patterson funeral home in Sandy Springs. Visitation will precede at 1 PM. Burial will follow at Arlington Cemetery in Sandy Springs.
In lieu of flowers, please consider a donation to one of the charities Miss Jimmie long supported: The Atlanta Community Food Bank, 3400 N. Desert Dr., Atlanta, GA 30344; Thornwell, 302 South Broad St., Clinton, SC 29325; Atlanta Habitat for Humanity, 824 Memorial Dr. SE, Atlanta, GA 30316.

Sign the guestbook at Legacy.com

View the obituary on Legacy.com

Funeral Home Information

H.M. Patterson & Son-Arlington Chapel

173 Allen Road Ne

Sandy Springs, GA