'Thomas Cannon Dies; Postal Clerk Lived Like a Pauper to Help Others'

Above, the headline above today's lead obituary in the Washington Post.

Thomas Cannon (above and below) died this past Saturday in Richmond, Virginia at 79.

He spent his working life as a career U.S. postal worker who never made more than $20,000 a year, yet gave away over $155,000 over the years.

After he retired from the postal service in 1983, Cannon and his wife lived in virtual poverty on his pension.

He told the Richmond Times–Dispatch earlier this year, "We lived simply, so that we could give money away. People say, 'How can you afford it?' Well, how can people afford new cars and boats? Instead of those, we deliberately kept our standard of living down below our means."

Here's Bill Lohmann's July 2 Richmond Times–Times Dispatch obituary of this extraordinary man.

Thomas Cannon, "Poor Man's Philanthropist," Dies

Thomas Cannon, Richmond's self-described poor man's philanthropist, died today after a brief battle with colon cancer.

Cannon, who was 79, was known for doling out $1,000 checks to strangers on a postal clerk's salary.

He was diagnosed in April with colon cancer, and surgeons removed two tumors but couldn't do anything about a third.

He told The Richmond Times-Dispatch at the time that he was quite willing to follow doctors' orders in order to stay alive, although he said he has no desire to become "a helpless, bedridden shell of an old geezer who has to be spoonfed and diapered."

He wanted nature to take its course.

Cannon approached death with his characteristic sense of humor.

"A Baptist deacon who owed me $200 died recently," Cannon said in late April.

"First thing I'm going to do when I get to the other side is run him down."

The $1,000 checks started in 1972.

Since then, he gave away more than $155,000, often to people he read about in newspapers.

They might be stuck in an unfortunate situation, or maybe they've displayed courage in one way or another.

Some had cancer, a coincidence that was not lost on him in his dying days.

Cannon traced his benevolence to his time in the Navy, when dumb luck saved his life.

Many of his buddies died in a shipboard explosion after he'd gone off to gunnery school.

He always wondered why he'd been spared.

Maybe, he finally determined, he was saved to help others and be a role model, to help people see "the oneness of it all."

He thought and talked and wrote like that.

He wrote numerous essays over the years that he kept in large folders in his paper-strewn office, which was intended to be a dining room when the house was built.

It was all food for thought for Cannon.

Cannon spent most of the past 33 years retired from the postal service and some of them caring for his wife, Princetta, who died in 2000 after almost 54 years of marriage and a lengthy illness.

He used to spend nights lying next to her bed in a sleeping bag on the floor.

It was during her illness that it became publicly known that the Cannons' home on Church Hill had fallen into disrepair.

A group of admirers raised enough money to purchase and donate a house to the Cannons near Maymont.

Tom Cannon lived there until his death.

Thomas Cannon gave the phrase "go postal" a whole new meaning.