Emily Earle Whisnant Wier

Published 12:14 pm Wednesday, January 15, 2025

Emily Earle Whisnant Wier passed away peacefully on January 13, 2025. Her beloved husband of 70 years, Rev. Dr. Kenneth R. Wier, died last April. One of three tight-knit sisters raised in Elizabethton, TN, Emily is survived by Betty Caroline Farrar. Mary Tuttle Hedgepeth predeceased Emily, as did parents Avero Earl Whisnant and Emeline Goforth Whisnant. Earl and Em raised their daughters to be educated, to serve their communities, and to be women of faith. Emily’s life was fully responsive. Emily and Ken cherished their family fold, which included four children: Anne Eason, Judi (Gary) Lenviel, Becky (Josh) Kuether, and Robert (Stephanie) Wier. They had and delighted in ten far-flung grandchildren and five great grandchildren. All of them intimately felt Emily’s singular attention, personal investment, and unfailing warmth. Emily met Ken (from Knoxville) when both were freshmen at Emory & Henry College. They eventually transferred to the University of Tennessee, where they wed in 1953 and graduated together in 1954. Ministry was the couple’s first calling. As their honeymoon, they spent a week as lead counselors at a Methodist youth camp! After Ken completed divinity school at Duke, they spent a long season in Methodist ministry in North Carolina and Virginia. Ken then felt the pull of medicine. Emily, ever the partner, taught high school English (just as her mother did) for several years in Memphis and Knoxville, as Ken completed medical school and his residency. At that point, the growing family relocated to Eastern Kentucky, where they built life around Ken’s family practice and the good people of Harlan County, including the Lynch United Methodist Church. After 30 years in the mountains, Ken and Emily retired to Norris Lake and spent 25 years meaningfully connected to Claiborne County, TN. Eventually, during the pandemic, the Wiers returned to Kentucky, where they finished their lives in the shared way they had spent seven decades—as one, in sickness and in health, for all of their days together. The world does not readily measure the impact of people like Emily Wier. Certainly, she made objective marks. A devout educator, she was an accomplished English teacher, and she continued volunteer teaching in adult literacy and ESL programs throughout the years in Harlan and Claiborne County. She was a talented musician, often serving as pianist for the church and always a ready choir member. She was active in leadership for the United Methodist Women and before that, the Women’s Society of Christian Service. She led Girl Scouts and worked on all sides of the PTA. She was, at one point, historian for the New Tazewell United Methodist Church. Dutiful service was a given. But her true impact was the ineffable way she touched people. Ken was a sure-enough healer, but Emily brought a kind of balm to this lonely, broken world that does not result from education or training. Her superpower was listening with kindness. In every situation, whomever she encountered, Emily found a way to bless another by turning a still, attentive, and caring ear. In conversations, she vanished into the speaker’s story, never steering things toward herself, instead earnestly offering empathy, interest, recognition, and encouragement. This came from a true heart, one wired for gratitude and burdened by the cares of those around her. She managed to gather and retain the ongoing details of all in her path, even the most passing, casual contact. She’d often lag behind in a store or restaurant, after becoming engrossed in a deep discussion about someone’s sick child or struggling husband. She also delighted when anyone received good news, feeling sincere joy merely in the positive turn or accomplishment of another. Getting her out of church on Sunday is part of family lore. Most weeks, everyone would be in the car, waiting, with the engine running (revving?) as Emily wound her way through real conversations up and down the sidewalk. This was a woman that cared, with her whole heart, about the welfare and woes of any person she knew or knew of. In a world where talkers are plentiful, she chose to be a ready and available listener, willing to pause and linger over the need of a friend or stranger. Her demands in life were few, her vices not recalled. As a parent, she was fun, open-minded, active, and fair. However, she would not tolerate impoliteness or ungraciousness toward others. She believed in hard work and duty. She taught her children to solve problems not be problems, and the thank you notes will go out on time. She was not naive about the world. Having grown up in the Depression and lived through World War II, she knew about hardship and recognized darkness. However, she made conscious choices based on eternal hope and God’s priorities. Thus, in each person she focused not on flaws or failings but on the individual’s challenges and potential to be better, buoyed by the belief that God’s image appeared in the people he created, meaning all of them. She lived a life of easy charity and grace. If you could not find something good to say about someone, she’d simply send you back to continue looking. Emily was an avid reader, a prolific swimmer (she may have had cork in her bones), a loyal friend, and a legendary letter writer. She had a sharp wit, mostly self-deprecating. Her missives were specific and epic—her effort to ensure the recipient felt seen, known, heard, and of significance. If you’ve gotten one, you are nodding. She saw worth and dignity in all people, and she told them so. She was incapable of guile, bias, or prejudice. The fruits of the spirit fueled her limitless goodwill. Emily’s loves were Ken, her family, all children, her friends, reading, swimming, and chocolate. Indeed, she was politely patient through any meal, just biding for a proper dessert. She was a natural rule follower and seemed to treat The Beatitudes as a manual. She left most of the high theology to Ken. In her view, the needs of the world—like ensuring every child could read and have the chance to be healthy—plainly existed and demanded attention, full stop. She pitched right in. Ken and Emily were complementary. His approach was action, discovery, and adventure. She brought reflection, deliberation, and stillness. He often forced her out of her comfort zone (think of one week backpacking in the rain on Isle Royale in Michigan). She joined in with (mostly) good humor, always signaling the human side of equations to be solved. He was the decisive center of most attention. She was the thoughtful and considerate, but indispensable, quiet voice. He was the gas, she the brake. Together, through the give-and-take of a model marriage, they lived a life overflowing with love and joy. The Wier family will formally celebrate Ken and Emily in these ways: On January 23, 2025, from 4-6 p.m., the family would welcome those in the Tri-City community to drop by, visit, and have coffee at The Depot and Lynch Bulldog Room. The Lynch kids are grateful to their home. On January 24, 2025, the family will receive friends at the New Tazewell Methodist Church (New Tazewell, TN) from 9-10 a.m., with a memorial service beginning at 10. There will be a graveside service, for the family, at 1 p.m. at Greenwood Cemetery in Knoxville. For anyone touched by Emily’s life, the Wiers humbly suggest a gift of time or resources to the Kentucky United Methodist Children’s Homes, Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library, or roomtoread.org. And, when the choice next presents itself, think of Emily and choose to listen with kindness.