“Bobba, Tell Us Your Story”

“Bobba, tell us your story.” That was my request to my uncle Bobby Tuggle Thanksgiving evening as we sat around the kitchen table. I knew a large part of it, but I wanted my children and grandchild to hear it from him. And so with a slice of pecan pie in the belly and a Scotch in his hand, he began. For over two hours we sat, listened, asked questions … and heard his story, recounted just as fresh and in detail as if it had happened yesterday.

Beginning with his graduating from Auburn University in December of 1956 and receiving his invitation to serve Uncle Sam in the US Army, he carried us through the next years of his “top security” clearance and assignment as a cryptographer, one who breaks coded messages, for the US government. The adventure began as he was on the parade ground at Fort Jackson, SC when an unmarked car with plain closed men got out, called “Tuggle” off the field and told him to “come go with us.” He thought for sure he was being escorted to the blockade but as it turned out, he was being taken to a distant part of the military base behind fences and high walls and then into a secure building where he sat across a table from three men who began to ask him questions, questions they already knew the answers to, letting on they knew every detail there was to know about his home and personal life.

Bobba told us fascinating story after story of his time at Fort McPherson, Fontainebleau, Paris, Germany, Switzerland and the likes as he worked secretly, sleeping on pads of grenades, transporting coding machines and carrying “the pill” lest he get caught by the enemy. And whereas my boys found those stories most exciting, my favorite one is always that of Tamara, the story of two people who fell madly in love. One a young American cryptographer; the other a beautiful Russian spy … and the separation and heartbreak that still reveals itself in the eyes and voice today.

Stories are powerful. They appeal to our senses as well our emotions, leaving a lasting impact on the next generation and forward, as evidenced by Bobba’s great-great nephew sitting wide-eyed right there next to him listening intently … asking his own good questions. Stories create a connection with that person as evidenced by my children’s desire to have their picture made with him. 

Several days later, Bobba called me to thank me for allowing him to talk to my children. Really? WE were the ones honored. He also told me that the older he gets and begins to face the end, his memories turn more and more to remembering those days … days he will never forget. “I did some things that were good,” he said. “I did some things that were bad. But they all made me who I am today.” Our life experiences do just that, don’t they?

No, we probably haven’t trucked across Germany with highly classified material in the back or skied the Switzerland slopes with a Russian spy, but we all have stories to tell. Pertinent stories. Stories that shaped us and made us who we are today. Stories that tell of the faithfulness of God; His goodness; His ever abiding presence; and His amazing love toward us … making all things work together for our good and His glory.

Thank you, Bobba, for telling us your story. We love you.