Funeral Services for Evelyn Naomi McCombs Hunt, age 95 of Cullman, will be held at 12 p.m. on May 29, 2026, at East Side Baptist Church. Burial to follow at Oakwood Cemetery in Gardendale, at approximately 3 p.m. with Kevin Wood officiating. Evelyn Naomi McCombs Hunt, though to the small circle who knew her first she would always be “Tootsie,” slipped quietly through Heaven’s gates on May 21, 2026.
She had arrived in the world on October 15, 1930, born to Evan and Pansy McCombs in Morris, Alabama. As the eldest of four children, she carried herself with a determined polish, as though excellence were not merely admired but expected. And so she pursued it everywhere: in spelling bees where words seemed to bloom effortlessly at her command, in school plays beneath hot auditorium lights, and on the annual staff where she served as Assistant Editor with the seriousness of a young woman already aware that details mattered. She was, by every account, brilliant. Her graduating class named her “Most Intelligent Girl,” though the title hardly captured the breadth of her curiosity. Books followed her through every season in life. Even in her later years, novels and histories rose in careful stacks beside her chair, always topped with the most important book to her – the Bible. And, that favorite book of hers, was studied. It was not decorative in any way; it was weathered, penciled in, swollen from years of constant handling. During her senior year, at a church revival, she met the love of her life, Seburn. They dated for a year before he proposed in a manner so unmistakably his own that the story became family legend: he threatened to jump off a bridge if she refused him. Whether she accepted out of love or concern for his safety remained one of the household’s favorite jokes. They were married on June 4, 1949, and from that day forward built a life stitched together with faith, laughter, children, and unwavering devotion.Together they raised four children — two sons, Ricky and Randy, and two daughters, Sharon and Teresa. Evelyn was the sort of mother who seemed to possess an endless reserve of gentleness. She never raised her voice. In the soft hours before school, she would stand at the stove gladly cooking whatever breakfast had been requested, never sighing, never hurrying anyone along. More than anything, she prayed for her children — over scraped knees and teenage heartaches, over marriages and careers and grandchildren not yet born. Prayer was as natural to her as breathing.And she was funny, too, though maybe not intentionally so. When life pinched at her patience, she would murmur phrases like “flitter on it,” with such sincerity that it was impossible not to laugh. Hers was the kind of humor that arrived quietly and stayed with you.Her family grew large and joyful around her: fourteen grandchildren, each one convinced — with good reason — that they held a singular place in her heart. She would drive any distance for them without complaint – watching ball games and tennis matches, violin concerts and ballet recitals, and countless church programs. One grandchild once remarked that no matter who you were, she made you feel like the most important person in the world. It was true. Her attention was complete, undistracted, and warm in a way that has become increasingly rare.In time came twenty-four great-grandchildren, treasures she counted carefully and loved fiercely. She loved and treasured their visits, recounting to her friends and Sunday School class the funny things they would say.Yet above all earthly loves, her greatest devotion was to God. Faith was not a portion of her life; it was the thread woven through every part of it. She prayed constantly, taught Sunday school and Awana classes, served on committees too numerous to remember, and poured herself into her church with the quiet steadiness of someone who never sought recognition. She simply believed serving the Lord was what one did.In the final years of her life, she lived with her daughter Teresa and son-in-law Jock, in a home made lively by family coming and going. She loved life’s simple treasures – handwritten cards, playing bowling on the Nex, Auburn football games with grandkids and great-grandkids, hymns even when sung slightly off-key, and sweets brought in by her son Rick and daughter-in-law Laura from the chocolate store. These small, ordinary moments — the kind that disappear while they are happening — became, in the end, the very fabric of a beautiful life.She would not want any grand to-do made about her. She would insist all glory belonged elsewhere. But still, those left behind may say this: Evelyn loved God above all things, and because of that, she loved people unusually well. We will miss her and will continually treasure her memory. Evelyn was preceded in death by her husband, Seburn; and her beloved granddaughter, Sonya. She leaves to cherish her memory her sons, Rick (Laura) Hunt and Randy (Sandra) Hunt; her daughters, Sharon (Steve) Mattison and Teresa (Jock) Leonard; her sister, Carolyn Silas; thirteen grandchildren and twenty-four great-grandchildren. Visitation to meet with family and friends will be held at East Side Baptist Church in Cullman, Alabama, on May 29, 2026, at 10:30 a.m. Funeral to follow at 12 p.m.
Cullman Funeral Home is honored to serve the family.
