Covington Mayor Justin Hanson and Covington Parks Recreaton Director Joe Mack with Bill Jim Davis about his book.

Every morning, without fail, Bill Jim Davis would put an American flag outside of his Covington house on Herring Drive, where he lived since the 1960s. Every evening before dark he would take it down. Davis died Saturday at the age of 97 and people in his neighborhood, some of whom may have not have known him all that well, already miss him. I heard from some of his neighbors,” said Covington Mayor Justin Hanson, who at 38 had known Davis his entire life. “They've already noticed the flag is gone.” Davis was known for a lot of things. He was instrumental in the creation of the Tipton County Museum, Veterans Memorial and Nature Center, which came to fruition on Nov. 11, 1998. Alice Fisher, who was the museum's director back then, got choked up when talking about the death of Davis. He deserves all the credit in the world for that,” Fisher said. “I can't tell you wonderful he was to me when I was there. He gave a gift to the people of this county … a marvelous gift. I'd never seen him smile more than he did that day.” Ten years before that, he helped form the Tipton County Veterans Council, which led to the Veterans Day Parade and Luncheon, an event that is still held annually. Andy Dunavant, 93, was part of the council that got the parade and luncheon going. He attended Davis' funeral Tuesday afternoon and said he was thinking about all the things his friend helped get done over the years as he was laid to rest. I thought the world of Bill Jim,” Dunavant said. “He was quiet in a way, but he'd tell you what he thought, and he was right. He wasn't pushy but he got things done.” Davis had a legendary military career and wrote a book about it, “Abandon Ship.” He was aboard the USS Helena on Dec. 7, 1941 when Japan bombed the ship at Pearl Harbor. There's a video where he talks about how he was walking below the deck when a torpedo hit the ship and brought him to his knees. His brother, Rob Roy, was also on the ship and neither knew if his brother had survived until hours later. He served in the Navy, holding very enlisted rank, until being discharged in 1946 and later served stateside on active duty during the Koren War. Davis retired from the Naval Reserve as a lieutenant commander in 1969 after 31 years of service. When he got back to his hometown of Covington he began selling insurance with State Farm, a job he held for 51 years until he retired in 2008. It was during this time that he began to get very involved with the community. Hanson would stop by his office or home as a child and lived next door to him on Herring Drive for several years. I never heard an unkind word from him and I never heard an unkind word about him. Not everybody can say that,” Hanson said. “When I was growing up it was a real treat to go see Mr. Jim. He set the bar when it came to how you're supposed to live your life.” When Davis wasn't involved in various community projects he spent his time at First United Methodist Church, where he was a member for 71 years, working on puzzles and reading. Some of his puzzles are still displayed in the Abernathy Building, the location of his State Farm office. In 1970 Davis was elected as a state senator and served three terms as an independent, something that was unheard of then and now. Hanson said Davis was known for sending care packages to friends and family members. He also liked to cut out newspaper articles and send them to people who he thought would find them interesting. He was also said to be a serious creature of habit. When he was still working, he would come home every day and take a nap, for about 15 minutes. It would be a power nap, no alarm … He would come home from work every day at 5:10. I mean every day he would walk into the house at 5:10.” Hanson said he last visited with Davis about three weeks before his death. Davis, as he always did, asked the mayor how he was doing. He was always concerned about others before himself. Hero, Hanson said when asked to describe Davis. “I don't know a better word to pick.