Worth Remembering...
​the life and legacy of lucius l. fleming, Anniston, Alabma

​A turn-of-the-century TRAILBLAZER in Funeral Service and Beacon of Black Excellence in Anniston, Alabama!
By Mrs. Charlotte A. Clark-Frieson
PictureLucius Livingston Fleming
12/9/1901 — 9/5/1963
​The Man Who Lit The Flame

In every Black community of the Jim Crow South, there was often one man. A figure whose very name carried weight. A man whose presence signified professionalism, dignity, and success. In Anniston, Alabama, that man was Lucius Fleming.

To the community, he was simply “Lucius.” No surname necessary. No title needed. If you were Black and from Anniston, there was only one funeral home — Lucius’ Funeral Home. And when people spoke his name, it came with a mix of pride, awe, and aspiration.


In this photo, ​Lucius L. Flemming stands outside his Funeral Hone which was located at
123 10th Street, downtown Anniston, Alabama 36201 for more than 40 years. 

On November 18, 1926 Lucius married his first wife, Lucille Burks in Calhoun County, AL..  Records show that Lucille was a native of Hogansville, Georgia. 

​However, Lucille did not live very long.  At a young age, Lucille died — a young mother— in 1935.
PictureWilkie Clark In his Younger Days
This is a photo of a young Wilkie Clark, probably during his courtship with Hattie Lee Peters Clark, who ultimately became his wife. in May, 1948
​But for my father, Wilkie Clark — a young, sharp-minded man with ambitions bigger than his hometown of Roanoke — Lucius Fleming was more than admired.

​He was idolized. The man who set the standard. The man who ignited a flame in Wilkie’s heart that would burn for a lifetime — inspiring him to launch Clark Funeral Home in Roanoke, Alabama. Lucius wasn’t just a mentor from afar. He was the blueprint.
​From Atlanta Roots to Alabama Legacy

Born in Atlanta, Georgia, on December 9, 1901, Lucius Livingston Fleming was not a native son of Anniston. But he became its most revered Black professional. At a time when segregation, systemic racism, and economic barriers boxed in so many African Americans, Lucius broke out — with polish, pride, and purpose.

Though documentation of his early education is elusive, all signs point to formal training in mortuary science — most likely at the prestigious Atlanta College of Mortuary Science, which operated from 1938 to 1970, or the Welch School of Embalming in Birmingham, a leading Black institution in the 1930s. Either way, by the time he landed in Anniston, he was already primed for business.

By the 1930 U.S. Census, at the young age of 29, he was living in Anniston, married to his first wife Lucille Burks Fleming, and listed as an embalmer working for an undertaking company — the beginnings of what would become a 32-year reign as one of Alabama’s most successful Black funeral directors, to date.

The Rise of “Lucius’ Funeral Home”

Lucius founded "The Lucius Fleming Home", on 123 West 10th Street — which was downtown Anniston, Alabama — and maintained both his home (1924 Constantine Avenue) and business addresses for over three decades — a mark of financial and personal stability that few Black professionals could claim in that era.

By the 1940s, he was self-employed, had acquired property, and was pulling in over $1,300 annually — a significant income at the time. With dignity, he buried hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Black families with grace and respect. His clients included the family of my mother — all natives of Anniston — John Peters, Mary Will Peters, Charlotte Forman Peters Lindsey, Ulysses Simpson Peters, the Barrows — Cousins Mose and Doshie — and countless other members of Anniston’s prominent Black households.

He was clean-cut, well-dressed, and carried himself with professional polish. It wasn’t just the business he ran. It was the image he embodied — one that said Black men could be leaders, professionals, and businessmen with dignity.

A Civic Giant in the Shadows of Segregation

Lucius Fleming wasn’t just an undertaker — he was a community force. He served as a trustee of the First Congregational Church, a Mason, an Elk, and held key leadership roles in the Alabama Negro Funeral Directors Association, including Chairman of the Executive Committee and President.

He organized civic fundraisers, advocated for vocational education for returning Black veterans, and extended his brand using publicity firms to reach communities beyond Anniston. He was a member of the Negro Business and Professional Men’s Club of Anniston, and he used his platform to elevate the dignity of funeral service and Black enterprise.
PictureNewspaper clipping from The Anniston Star, (9/8/1963)
The Sudden End of a Storied Life

On September 4, 1963, at the age of 62, Lucius Fleming died unexpectedly at Anniston Memorial Hospital (Now Northeast Regional Medical Center). His passing sent shockwaves through the community. The man who had shepherded so many through their darkest hours was suddenly gone — without warning.

He was laid to rest from the pulpit of First Congregational Church, the very church where he had worshiped and served. In attendance were business colleagues, civic leaders, grateful families, and everyday citizens — all touched in some way by Lucius’ work.

He left behind six children, including his son Lucius Fleming, Jr., who assumed leadership of the funeral home. But while the name remained, the spirit — the singular vision of Lucius Sr. — could not be duplicated.

The Slow Collapse of a Legacy

In the years following Lucius Sr.’s death, the family business began to unravel. By the mid-1970s, Lucius Jr. had relocated to California, and the funeral home in Anniston fell into disrepair. In 1976, The Anniston Star ran a devastating front-page exposé titled "Anniston Funeral Home in Bad Shape", detailing the horrific condition of what had once been a local beacon.

The once-respectable building was now a haven for vagrants, strewn with trash, broken caskets, and relics of its former glory. Lucius Jr. had pleaded guilty to mail fraud involving life insurance policies, and the building was padlocked by the sheriff’s department. Tragically, Ralph Fleming, Lucius’ brother, was found living in the ruins.

The fall was not just personal — it was symbolic. It reflected the precariousness of Black legacies in America, especially when systemic barriers, financial pressures, and personal missteps collide. A legacy built with pride had become a cautionary tale.

Final Reflections: A Torch Worth Carrying

And yet, despite the decline, Lucius Fleming’s story is not one of failure — it is one of triumph and impact.

He proved what was possible. He lived as a Black professional with dignity, order, and vision in an era that denied those very things to most men who looked like him. He inspired Wilkie Clark — who would go on to found Clark Memorial Funeral Service — and through Wilkie, his influence stretches far beyond Anniston.

Lucius Fleming showed that death work could be honorable, and that service to the Black community could be carried out with elegance, enterprise, and deep moral pride. He left behind more than a building. He left behind a blueprint — not just for funeral directors, but for all of us seeking to live a life of excellence in the face of adversity.

He was the man who lit the fire.  And the flame still burns!  It burns brightly at Clark Memorial Funeral Service, in Roanoke, Alabama — The torch passed on to us by Wilkie Clark.
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