LISBON FALLS – When doctors told Lionel W. Tupper he needed a hip operation, he told them he was too busy.

Even at 90, Tupper would be too restless sitting at home. And someone might need him.

For half a century, people have called Tupper in the middle of the night, when someone was hurt, or worse.

He operated an ambulance service earlier. And for the past 45 years, he has worked for Crosman Funeral Home.

When someone dies, Tupper often helps funeral director David Robert take care of them. Before a funeral, he arranges flowers and prepares the chapel for visitors. And when grieving friends and family arrive, he is often the first person the visitors see, dressed in a dapper suit and holding out a warm hand.

“After all these years, I know just about everyone,” Tupper said. “I like what I’m doing.”

And he has no plan to stop. The alternative would be boring.

Tupper was born in 1914. He grew up just a few miles away, across the Androscoggin River in Durham’s Shiloh community. He was the seventh of 10 kids, an athletic boy who loved baseball and football. By the time he was in high school, he was quarterbacking the football team and catching for the Durham Red Sox.

Working days, nights too

He graduated from high school in 1932 and, after a stateside stint in the Army, he went to work as a clerk at Brunswick Naval Air Station. And he married his sweetheart, Madelyn.

Meanwhile, he worked side jobs. He grew used to little sleep, often driving an ambulance all night after working all day.

After 28 years, he retired from the Brunswick base. But he kept working for the funeral home.

“I don’t feel much older than I ever did,” said Tupper, who has been married to Madelyn for 62 years. “I just take it one day at a time.”

Besides the hip problem – he says he’ll get the surgery when he needs it more – he’s in pretty good health. It’s good enough for him to work a varied schedule, anywhere from five or six hours a week to nearly 40.

“When they need me, I work,” Tupper said.

That’s what he thought this September when he was called a few days before his birthday. Robert picked him up at his home, and they headed for Lewiston. Then, the funeral director turned the car around curiously and drove to the familiar funeral home at 40 Main St.

When they walked inside, the newly remodeled chapel was filled with Tupper’s family and friends. Caterers had brought food and a new plaque was attached to the archway.

It read, “The Lionel W. Tupper Chapel.”

It’s a measure of respect for the job Tupper has done for so many years, Robert said.

“I was never more surprised in my life,” said Tupper, sitting in an adjoining room recently and wearing a crisp blue suit.

Tupper dismissed his importance with a wave.

“I greet the people and line the cars up,” he said.

But Robert doesn’t believe it.

“If Mr. Tupper is not at the door when people come in, they ask why,” Robert said.