Roy Clifford Long
April 14, 1943 - September 1, 2023

Roy Clifford Long passed away on Friday, September 1st, 2023 at Lower Cape Fear Lifecare Hospice at 80 years old. He was born on April 14th, 1943. Roy was the last surviving child born to Manuel and Ardella Long. Originally from Franklinville, NC, Roy moved to Shallotte, NC, in 1979. Roy married Sarah Lee Craven in October of 1960. He was a mechanic all his life and was well known for his expertise on car repair. He was a member of Shell Point Baptist Church since the early 2000’s. In his earlier years Roy enjoyed hunting and fishing recreationally.
Roy Long is survived by his children, James Clifford Long (Cassandra Long), Sarah “Louise” Hiatt, his ex-son in law, Laurrie Hiatt, his grandchildren, Samuel “Clyde” Hiatt (Marlene Hiatt), Jessie West (Tim West), Terri Lynn Hiatt (Jack W.), James Whitesides, Sarah “Joanne” Long (Garrett Jones), Jesse “Alex” Long, his great-grandchildren, Edna Turner, Kat West, Collin West, Paisley Taylor and his best friend, George Lindley.
He is met in Heaven by his mother and father, (Manuel Hobert Long and Ardella Thomas Long), all of his siblings, (Manuel Long Jr, Dorothy Stalker, Barbara Ward, James “Junior” Long, Ardella Long, Jesse Clarence Long), his wife, (Sarah Lee Craven Long), and his granddaughter, (Keisha Ann Long).

All dear friends and family of Roy are welcome to attend his service on Sunday September 10th at 3 PM at Shell Point Baptist Church.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

– Dylan Thomas, Do Not Go Gentle into That Goodnight


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