Many eulogies start out with statements like “where do I begin.” But this one does not.
Anyone remembering Tom knows immediately where to begin because meeting him for the first time is such a memorable experience.
From your first to your last encounter with Tom, be it in an elevator, at the dinner table, over the radio waves, through the internet, on the news, he was always ready to entertain you. Even in his final months. When going anywhere with Tom, I used to feel sorry for those that were trapped when he blew into his pitch pipe and then had to listen to him sing barbershop quartet music for you. But now I’m grateful and cherish those moments.
What you do see is the Tom Fitzmorris who is sharing details of fictitious restaurants in the middle of the causeway or in the West End bomb shelter for April fools. I’m here to share some behind the scenes.
Tom was an amazing father. Every outing was an opportunity for learning and growing. I owe much of what makes me the man I am today to Tom.
Many of you don’t know that Tom considered himself a “retro scout” of the Boy Scouts in Mandeville. We went on many scouting trips together where Tom could share his cooking with others while they shared survival tips with him.
Even before “Glamping” was a thing, Tom was proficient at this. One specific trip was a canoe journey down a river that I was keen on attending. Tom hadn’t done much canoeing, so we were learning together. We reached a bend in the river where a large newly fallen log blocked the left side of the river. The right side held a challenging drop through some rocks. The more experienced dads took a look and said, Nah we don’t want to go down that thing. So they proceeded to cut a canoe-sized hole in the fallen log with the saw they so conveniently had. All that was required was to hang a quick left and go through the hole. So after the first 3 canoes went through the new path unscathed it was our turn. Well Tom and I couldn’t find the hard left button in that canoe and proceeded to careen straight over the hard way and get soaking wet (but didn’t flip over). By the end of that trip, Tom knew how to canoe.
And it was like this for everything.
Tom needed a logo for Nomenu, so he taught himself how to make a logo. Hand drawn, by Tom, in use to this day. When the internet came about, Tom decided taking Nomenu online could reach more people and reduce printing costs, so Tom learned how to build and launch a website. By himself in 1996. I still come across some of the code that he wrote still in the website today.
Tom needed a treehouse for some kids. So he taught himself how to build a treehouse. Which is still….Okay well that one rotted out a while ago, but you get the picture. Necessity breeds innovation and Tom lived this.
It was Tom who I learned work ethic from. Many in this room experienced the output of Tom’s work through his radio show, his articles, books, eat clubs, and more. But few have seen what went into orchestrating this into a reality. I’ll give you a picture of a day in the life.
Tom awoke early and started with a fresh pot of French Market coffee and chicory. He would collect all of the itemized receipts from restaurants he’d dined at in the prior days to remind him what he’d ordered and any notes written down (Bernaise needed more chervil or the doilies were oversized.)
He would start writing his daily articles (Dining Diary, Restaurant Reviews, New Orleans City Business column). he would do all of these in one sitting. I was astounded at the amount of well-written prose that Tom could produce in a given day. When the kids awoke, he would mosey over to his auxiliary refrigerator, year 1972, color avocado, which was filled with oranges which he proceeded to slice and squeeze for his fresh juice. Consistently reminding us that Florida oranges are superior to California oranges.
Then he would take the kids to school (eventually crossing the causeway at this time). Then was time for his radio show where he would spend 3 hours discussing food. Well let’s face it, it was mostly food and whatever he had on hand. Tom could make anything interesting. I recall an exchange between Tom and Terrell Robinson traffic that was inspired by a 200 pack of crayons that I’d inadvertently left in his booth. They spend the next 20 minutes explaining over radio what the other colors were beyond the typical 10 and specifically trying to determine which brown was darker, “Beaver” or “Tree Bark.”
Once that mystery had been solved, the show was over, it was wrap up and prepare for dinner, either by himself, with a chef or with an Eat Club. Eat Clubs would often go late and he would go back across the causeway and sleep before doing it all again the next day.
Regardless of how late his Friday nights were, Tom was always there Saturday mornings to either cook breakfast for his kids or more likely take us to Shoney’s, a former breakfast buffet in Mandeville. Later in life when I knew how he actually felt about buffets it made it that much more touching that he would take us there so regularly and without a disguise.
While this may sound exhausting, Tom found respite in his faith. It’s fitting that we are having his send off at Jesuit because the Jesuit way was a part of Tom. In addition to attending Jesuit, he made yearly silent retreats to Manresa Retreat house for 41 years. After college, I too, started attending Manresa with Tom and was so glad I got to share this with him even if it was just a few times. 
Tom’s impact on New Orleans and beyond was so noticeable.
I recall a time when we were in Germantown, Maryland (a suburb of Washington DC) and wandered into a small local coffee shop that was serving beingeits. Intrigued, Tom ordered these and they were very good. He asked the owner about the recipe who proceeded to pull out a printout from Nomenu.com. After which great conversation ensued, and each of them made a new friend that day.
With the exception of the radio show, Tom had no boss or anyone he was accountable to. He started all of this out of pure passion and interest but he kept doing it because he knew what it meant to all of you. It was your reading, calling, questioning, drinking, and eating that was the fuel in Tom’s engine that kept him going day after day.
And for that, he was eternally grateful. I am eternally grateful. I feel so blessed to see what my father meant to the city of New Orleans.
God must have felt that the food in heaven was on a downward trend, so he called up Tom on the Ivory phone to join him and straighten that out. AMDG Tom
