Floyd Burt

 Graveside Services for Floyd Burt will be held Sunday, May 31, 2026 at 11 a.m. from Eastlawn Cemetery with Bro. Jim Sisson officiating. Visitation will be held Sunday, May 31, 2026 from 9 a.m. until 10:45 a.m. at McClain-Hays Funeral Home.

Floyd Allen Burt, 89, passed away on May 29, 2026 surrounded by family. He was born on May 8, 1937. Floyd lived a life defined by hard work, dedication and quiet strength. Floyd worked at U.S. Motors, owned and operated the Handee Shop, and spent many years driving and working with 18-wheelers. If he wasn’t on the job, he could usually be found on a tractor cutting hay, bush-hogging, or tending to his animals. Hard work wasn’t just something Floyd did—it was who he was. Those who knew him knew he was always working, never afraid of long days, difficult jobs, or getting his hands dirty. His dedication, determination, and strong work ethic were admired by everyone around him. He took pride in providing for his family, caring for his land, and seeing every task through to completion. Beyond his work, Floyd will be remembered as a dependable man with a strong spirit, a kind heart, and an unwavering devotion to his family and friends. Floyd leaves behind many cherished memories that will continue to live on in the hearts of all who knew and loved him. 

Mr. Burt is preceded in death by his parents, J.B. Burt and Willie Fulton Burt; sister, Dorothy Burt Cumberland; brothers, Jerry Burt, William Burt, and Harold Burt. 

Survivors include his wife, Jo Goldman Burt; son, Mac Burt (Adriana); daughters, Juan Burt Sparnecht (Ron), Renita Holloway (Bill), Amanda Daskalakis (George) and Angie Myers; 15 grandchildren; 17 great-grandchildren; six great-great grandchildren. 

Pallbearers are Andrew Wallace, Travis "Festus" Bell, Neal "Tweety Bird" Kennedy, Anthony "Papa G" Kirkland, Dylan Sparnecht, and Brandon Fulton. Honorary pallbearers are Jason Myers, Coby Maddox, Niko Daskalakis, Stelio Daskalakis, and Gary Wilcher.

Letter from his grandkids:

Papa To Mac and Juan, he was Daddy, to many others, he was Floyd or Mr. Chips. But to us, he was our Papa. There’s a song by Luke Combs called Remember Him That Way, In the song he says, “There’s an old gray man in a La-Z-Boy, tv on a western, fast sleep, gray in his hair at least what’s left, with the heart of a lion beating in his chest. But there’s a little more slow in his go, little less rock in his roll these days. But we remember him ten feet tall and bulletproof. God couldn’t make a man any tougher. We will always remember him this way.” 

If you knew Papa, you know those words fit him perfectly. You could almost always find him sitting in that recliner, an old western, a football game, napping for a little while, or quietly looking out over the pond. He was a simple man in the very best way. He didn’t need much to be happy: his family close by sharing a meal, 18 wheelers, his tractor, and a little Jack Daniels. Growing up, Saturdays belonged to Papa. Our parents worked which meant Papa was in charge. Not many would take on the challenge of four little girls by themselves but he never thought twice about it. Wherever he went, we went too, and I mean everywhere. If he had to haul logs to Kemper County, we climbed into that 18 wheeler with him “hidden” from MDOT. He’d love to tell the story to us when they unloaded, he’d zip us up in the sleeper bag and say, “Y’all stay in the truck,” but the second the door shut, all four little heads would pop out. We chased baby goats, rode the ground slide as he pulled us through the pasture, planted a garden, and ate lunch at chicken basket was non-negotiable. We sang “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” sitting in the swing. And somehow, peas and cornbread always tasted better at Papa’s Table. Papa was strong, but gentle. Tough, but tenderhearted. And if you were lucky enough to get one of his hugs, you know there was no safer place in the world. Our sweetest memories were made beside him. He taught us things that mattered, not with big speeches, but by the way he lived every single day. He taught us to work hard. To be kind. To love family and to take care of each other.l