MYRTIS LEE HEARD JACKSON – HER FAMILY AND LIFE
(I wrote this in the summer of 2012, and never finished it. I found it, and decided to publish it even though it is not yet complete.)
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| Myrtis Lee Heard while in Graduate School at LSU |
OBJECTIVES-- Myrtis Lee Heard
Jackson was born on Aug. 8. 1912 and died on April 11, 1995, having lived almost
83 years. The 100th Anniversary of her birth will occur this
month. This approaching “birthday” and
other recent events have left me reminiscing and missing her so much. More than anything I wish I had “known,” really “known” my mother. I can
recite the events and important dates of her life; I can recount my memories of
things she did and said; but I am uncertain as to how much these allow me to
actually understand who she was. In
writing this Blog, I hope to accomplish two things:
1.
To bring together what I know of Myrtis Lee --
to explore, organize, synthesize, summarize, analyze, and maybe, just maybe
gain more insight.
2.
TO ASK YOU – my readers to share your thoughts
and experiences in order to expand and explore the mosaic that was Myrtis Lee’s
life. To this purpose, I invite your
responses and comments. PLEASE
CONTRIBUTE.
THIRD GOAL -- We may or may not
achieve these two ambitious goals, but in our efforts, I am fairly certain we
can achieve a third and equally important objective – to leave some stories and
impressions for Myrtis Lee’s great grandchildren – Veronica, Patrick, Carlos,
Sarah, Alex, and Brody. Myrtis Lee lived
to hold the two oldest, but only Veronica has any memory of her. Kyle and Roni Jackson were expecting Alex
while Myrtis Lee lay dying, and she taped a picture of the expectant couple
exactly where her eyes rested as she lay in the most comfortable position
afforded her. I found the photo after
her death, and knew it was the image impressed on her heart at the end. On one character attribute there can be no
doubt – Myrtis Lee loved her family; the family she grew up in and the family
she created with Wilmer “Jack” Jackson, Sr.
The second attribute which cannot
be denied, was her love of teaching of the children she taught.
TO THE READERS -- To begin at the
end, I remember that on April 12, 1995, as my mother lay in the funeral parlor
in Logansport, a steady stream of people passed through. Most had a story they wanted to share -- a story about my mother, and what she
meant to them. When I went to bed that
evening, I knew that I would be burying someone I had never really known. She was my beloved Mother, and that was the way
I knew her. All these other people knew
other aspects of her; other facets of the total person. They had offered me new insights, new
knowledge of the complex person I had called Mother for 62 years. I am hoping that some of those who shared
their stories on that occasion and others who have not shared their stories,
will take this opportunity to share stories about Myrtis Lee. DO IT NOW.
Just go the end and add your story.
Even if you decide not to dig through all that I have written, please
write your entry. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR
CARING AND SHARING.
If you are like most people, you
have had the experience of sharing deeply with some stranger
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Consequential_strangers;
http://faculty.kent.edu/ehollen2/reappointment/CPHollenbaughEverett2011_anonymity
.
Sometimes these encounters happen on a
plane or train, at a conference, on a vacation, on the internet, or on a Blog.
In a disconnection from ordinary, daily life,
two strangers engage in a conversation in which they reveal their deepest
fears, hopes, desires, disappointments, joys.
With a stranger, whom we don’t know and will probably never meet again,
there is a sense of “safety” a freedom to reveal what we normally keep
hidden.
Is it possible for us to engage
in such revelation with someone with whom we have a long and intimate
relationship; or do the very demands of that relationship preclude openness and
self-revelation?
Can we ever really know
those who are most close and dear to us?
Most of us want those we love to see only the best in us.
Most of us want to know only the best about
those we love, and are often deaf, and blind to their failings.
We all participate in conspiracies that
restrict and define how well and how deeply we actually know those we love.
I guess I am asking whether a Mother can (or
should) know her daughter; and whether a daughter can ever really know her
Mother.
Are we doomed to have less
appreciation and understanding for those we love most?
I know that I would give anything to engage
today in a deep and personally meaningful conversation with my mother; but I
also know that I would be deeply frightened about engaging in such a
conversation with one of my daughters.
Can we transcend this paradox, and achieve greater empathy and
understanding of those we love.
This is
an eternal question in human existence.
It won’t be answered, but it can be addressed.
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| Myrtis Lee Heard as an Undergraduate at Louisiana Tech |
LIFE AND TIMES --
My Mother, Myrtis Lee Heard Jackson
was the 8th of 13 children born to James Addison Heard and Clora
Frances Nolen Heard. Her Father was a
graduate of the first Louisiana Normal College in Lake Charles and taught until
he couldn’t support his growing family on a teacher’s pay. He then became a surveyor and timber buyer
for the sawmills that cut the long leaf pines of southwestern Louisiana. Her mother raised the children and ran the
farm outside of Pitkin, LA.
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| James Addison Heard |
Her paternal Grandparents, John
Thomas Heard and Sarah Adeline Lindsey Heard were early pioneers and residents
of Dry Creek; while her maternal Grandparents Merida Tilus “Til” Nolen and Maria
Theresa Jones Nolen grew up in Surgartown, and moved to Pitkin after their
marriage. Til Nolen grew up in poverty
after his father was murdered by a group of “home guard” during the Civil War. However, Til achieved prosperity and owned a
large farm and the Pitkin Mercantile (hardware and dry goods) Store in
Pitkin. After his marriage to Clora
Nolen, James Addison Heard homesteaded a farm adjacent to his father-in-law’s
property, and built a home for his family.
This farm is owned and maintained until this day by their
descendants.
It is a challenge for us today to
comprehend the dynamics of growing up in a large family in rural Southwest
Louisiana during the early decades of the 20th Century. Just consider: Myrtis Lee’s oldest brother
was born in the 19th Century and two of her siblings lived into the
second decade of the 21st Century. Collectively, James Addison Heard and Clora
Nolen Heard have over 100 descendants spread over six living generations.
I confess that the complex dynamics
of sibling relationships has fascinated me since I began to realize that my
Heard Aunts and Uncles had patterns of differing relationships. Some of my cousins and I have discussed this
topic and can identify two distinct patterns among the 12 Heard siblings: First, there are the “Playmate” groups (those
siblings who were close in age, and played and grew up together); and Second,
there are the sibling parent/baby pairs (in which an older sibling assumed a
parental role in the rearing of a younger sibling).
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| Vera, Glenn, Myrtis Lee, and Simmie as Teens |
The Oldest playmate group consisted
of T. P., France, Addie, Glenn and Rufus.
Rufus was the swing man in this group, belonging both the oldest
playmate group and to the Middle playmate group, which consisted of Burkett,
Simmie, Myrtis Lee, and Vera. The Younger
playmate group consisted of Meredith, Alton, and Lindsey. Interestingly, this “younger” playmate group
was supplemented by the oldest grandchildren, Hewell and Jerry, who spent the
summers and holidays with their Uncles on the farm. Hewell was the same age as Lindsey, and Jerry
was only two years younger.
Myrtis Lee’s two oldest brothers
fought in the 1st World War.
The eldest,
Thomas P. “Red or Skipper” Heard returned and entered LSU, where he came to the
attention of a number of influential people, including Huey Long.
He worked as the first trainer for the LSU
Tiger football team, and after receiving his bachelor’s degree, he managed the
business of the LSU sports (
http://communicatinglife2.blogspot.com/2011/06/thomas-pinkney-heard-pink-red-tp.html).
Huey, later made him the first Athletic
Director at LSU.
Her second brother,
Frances Hewell “France” married and settled in Ruston, LA. to raise his
family.
Her oldest sister (10 years her
senior), Adeline Theresa “Addie” became a teacher and taught in schools near
the family home in Pitkin.
Addie was
Myrtis Lee’s teacher and basketball coach in high school.
Addie
taught during the school year, and went to school in the summer, advancing from
a high school degree, to a two- year Normal teaching degree, to a full
Bachelor’s degree. These were the
depression years, and Addie was fired from one teaching position because she
was a single woman, and a man (with lesser qualifications) needed her job to support
his family. Addie was an outstanding
basketball coach, and coached a state championship girls’ team in 1923. Addie taught almost every grade at some time,
but eventually decided she preferred first graders. After many years of teaching, she attained a
master’s degree. She taught in Louisiana
and Texas schools for almost 50 years.
For a woman
who wasn’t allowed to vote until she was 38, Clora Frances Nolen Heard had an
interesting gender philosophy. Clora
said she hoped her sons would seek an education; but that she would see that
her daughters finished college. She held
that men could do quite well in the world without advanced education, but that
a woman’s best hope for a good life was education. Clora fulfilled her pledge -- all three of her
daughters finished college, and two went on to complete graduate degrees.
Clora
Frances Nolen was a woman who looked life straight in the eye and never
flinched. She was barely 5 feet tall with
flaming red hair, and ran the Heard farm, primarily with labor birthed from her
own body. When anyone in the community
was ill, Clora was called in to provide care.
She was also the local midwife.
Clora knew a great deal about quarantine, transmission, and prevention of
diseases. When Myrtis Lee contacted typhoid,
Clora identified the bad well and closed it.
She isolated Myrtis Lee, and sterilized everything the infected child
touched. None of the other children
contacted the disease.
Clora was also the one called in to
tend to the dying and the dead. She
closed many eyes, and washed and clothed bodies for burial. She never considered these services to be
less than natural. Clora had only
distain for those who avoided or denied the unpleasant aspects of life. If you said something foolish or downright
stupid, she would look at you with a mixture of pity and scorn and say, “Aw
pshaw.” You did not want to speak
nonsense, lies, nor bull-shit to Maw Maw Heard.
Clora Heard practiced an amazingly
effective form of disease prevention for her children and grandchildren. She maintained a cabinet of the most vile
smelling and tasting medicines known to man.
Most were either laxatives and purgatives or antidiarrheals. They ranged from castor oil, milk of
magnesia, and versions of senokot to kaopectate. She also had a supply of equally vile cough
and fever remedies. If a child (or
grandchild) had a minor complaint, out came the medicines. Grandmother Heard felt that a
laxative/purgative was appropriate for everything except diarrhea. As she put it, everyone needs a good
“cleaning out” from time to time.
Needless to say, the children in Grandmother Heard’s care quickly
learned not to have any minor illnesses.
We did not complain unless we were near death or in great pain. In those cases, Grandmother Heard’s response
was quite different. The sufferer
received both sympathy and tender care.
Her most frequent medicines for pain were paregoric or a hot toddy made
with good Irish whiskey. I still
remember my Grandmother’s tender and effective care for my earaches and
menstrual cramps. Till this day, the
smell of a hot toddy brings her image, and feelings of warmth and security.
While
Myrtis Lee was still in school, and Addie was teaching, the Heard home burned,
and the family lost most of their belongings, including furniture and
clothing. James Addison Heard received
burns on his face and torso while trying to rescue valuables from the burning
home. Myrtis Lee said that the children
left home for school in the morning, and returned to a burned out shell in the
afternoon. It was a tragic, and
unforgettable event for the family. They
built a smaller home (since several of the children were now grown), across the
field from the burned home. This second house
still stands on the Heard Farm outside Pitkin, La. Bricks
from the original home were used in the construction of the fireplace in the
newer home. Some of these bricks are in
the hearth of the fireplace in our house in Joaquin.
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| Maria Therese Jones Nolen as a Young Woman |
Initially,
Myrtis Lee did not want to teach. She
opted for the only other profession open to women of that era – nursing. Her grandmother, Maria Theresa Jones Nolen,
held an old fashioned view of nurses, as little better than prostitutes, and
would not speak to Myrtis Lee when she left for nursing training.
Rejection
by her Grandmother Nolen was very painful for Myrtis Lee. She had always been close to her Grandmother,
whose farm was adjacent to the Heard property.
Maria Theresa Jones Nolen was an aristocrat, and matriarch of her
family. Married at 19, she lost four
babies at birth or in early infancy; and raised three daughters and two
sons. Her father, William Jones died when
she was 8 leaving her mother with four children to raise. William was a prosperous farmer, who lost
everything after the Civil War, dying in 1865 with few remaining financial
resources. In spite of (or maybe because
of) their poverty, Maria held tight to pride in her Jones and Jelks family
heritages. While deprived of their opportunities
for education, Maria and her brother Robert made certain that their children received
educations in the local schools. Robert’s son Sam Houston Jones became a lawyer
and was elected Governor of Louisiana in 1940.
Sam served one term, cleaning out much of the corruption of the Long
Machine, and instituting the Civil Service system for state employees (thus
eliminating the “spoils” system in state jobs).
The Jones family were staunch Democrats, but consistently opposed the
Longs.
Maria Jones Nolen held education in
high esteem, supported women’s suffrage, and wanted equal treatment for her
daughters. Her husband left his land and
businesses to his widow and his sons.
After his death, Maria gave her daughters equal shares in the estate. She was fond of her son-in-law James Addison
Heard because he was an educated man.
She was quoted by her grandchildren as saying that she wished she had an
education. Specifically, she said that
with an education she might have been able to say what she wished to say
without offending and alienating people.
In short, Grandmother Nolen was a woman who “told it like she saw it,” and the listener could like it or
not. From the stories I have heard, I
don’t think a better vocabulary would have solved Grandmother Nolen’s
communication problems. Her descendants,
with far better educations, still find it difficult to sugar-coat the truth or
keep quiet when others spout nonsense.
Grandmother Nolen lacked tact, and had a low tolerance for
bull-shit. Most people either loved and admired
her or hated her. Clora, Addie, Myrtis
Lee and Vera had many of her traits, and some of these may (just may) have been
transmitted to her granddaughters and great granddaughters.
It was her Grandmother Nolen’a opposition that
prevented Myrtis Lee from leaving nursing school after the first few
weeks. The nursing school was a Catholic
educational program, run by the nuns with rules that were restrictive even for
the early 1930’s. The nuns were making
sure that their nurses were not mistaken for loose women. Myrtis Lee hated the rules and restrictive
life, but stubbornly stuck it out. She
just wouldn’t return home to her Grandmother’s, “I told you so.”
Myrtis Lee learned a lot from that
year as a nurse –in-training. All of her
life, she gave shots for family members (especially diabetics), and provided
bedside care to ailing family members, including those who were dying. She never flinched, nor turned away from the
hardest, most emotionally devastating aspects of illness and death. Her loving face was the last earthly sight
for many.
After a
year of nursing school, Myrtis Lee returned home briefly, and then accepted an
invitation from her brother France and sister-in-law Bessie to join their
household in Ruston, where she would attend Louisiana Tech. Jesse Burkett Heard, who was four years older
than Myrtis Lee was also living in Ruston, where he had recently married Lois
Glenn Barker. Burkett worked at
Louisiana Tech for over 50 years. His
daughter, Bette Lois Heard Wallace and grandson Sam Wallace have also made
careers at the University.
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| Myrtis Lee Heard after Graduation from Louisiana Tech |
Stories of this time in Ruston were
told by Myrtis’ nephews Hewell and Jarrell “Jerry.” Myrtis
lived part of her time at Tech in the dorms and part of the time in her brothers’
homes. The boys remember her as lively
and adventurous. They tell a great tale
of the day Bonnie and Clyde were shot
(May 23, 1934). When word of the
shooting reached Ruston, Myrtis Lee wanted to go see the excitement. She and Bessie and the boys drove to Arcadia
where they saw the bullet-riddled Ford in which the outlaws died. However, the bodies of Bonnie and Clyde were
laid-out inside a building, and closed to the public. Myrtis Lee and the boys slipped around to the
back of the building, and managed to lift and boost each other up so that one
at a time, they could look in a high window to see the bodies laid out on a table.
Jerry vividly remembered Myrtis Lee
winning swimming and diving contests held at LA Tech. The boys were so proud of their petite Aunt
(5’1”, less than 100 pounds) who swam faster and dove better than the older,
larger girls. Her victory was more
remarkable because she had never had opportunities to swim in a pool. Her swimming was done in Six-Mile Creek, and
her diving was perfected on tree branches over-hanging the swimming hole.
At Louisiana Tech, Myrtis Lee
majored in English, but the teaching certificate she received covered all
grades, elementary through high school.
She taught one year (I believe) before accepting an invitation from her
oldest brother, T.P. “Red” Heard to come to Baton Rouge for graduate studies at
LSU. As Athletic Director (in an era
when nepotism was an accepted part of the culture) Red gave Myrtis Lee a job in
his office where she worked for his assistant, Bernice Golden. Her
brother was called Red, so Myrtis Lee became “Little Red,” a nickname used by many of her fellow students and colleagues.
Myrtis Lee was not the only Heard
daughter at LSU that fall,. Vera Ruth
Heard (three years younger) was also at LSU, and they lived together. As an undergraduate, Vera had a job in the
Post Office. The sisters were frequent
visitors in the home of their older brother and his wife Elizabeth McKnight
Heard., and became close to their nieces and nephews, Harriet “Sister,”
Tommie, Florence Adele, and Robert.
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| Myrtis Lee and Vera with Beau at LSU |
The two sisters, who came to look
much alike in their later years, were quite different in their youthful appearance. Vera was a taller than Myrtis, and very slim
with dark hair and deep dimples. Myrtis
Lee had dark auburn (mahogany-toned) hair and was shorter and more curvaceous. It irked both sisters that most people
assumed that Vera was older. Myrtis Lee kept a photograph album from this
era, with pictures of the two sisters with friends and suitors.
It was an exciting time at LSU. The sports teams were winning; and state monies,
invested in hiring the best academics, were building the university’s
reputation. Many of the photos in
Myrtis’ book include famous athletes who played for LSU during the 1930’s. During this time, Red introduced lights and
night games to college sports. On at
least one occasion, Huey Long charted a train so LSU students could travel to
see the Tigers play in a bowl game. Myrtis
Lee and Vera went on the first such
excursion, and also helped raise money to buy the very first “Mike The Tiger.”
Myrtis Lee changed her educational
direction at LSU, pursuing a master’s degree in physical education. Pictures from the era show her playing a
variety of sports, including basketball, gymnastics, archery, modern dance,
medicine ball exercise, golf, tennis, rowing, swimming, and diving. There were no official interscholastic sports
competitions for women in those days, but Myrtis Lee competed in intramural
sports and some unofficial interscholastic meets. She received her master’s degree at LSU, and
went on to teach, and take additional graduate courses there.
Vera was the first of the sisters
to fall in love. She met Pete Ballis,
who played end for the Tigers, and the two began a life-long romance. They were secretly married for two years (I
believe) because the terms of his football scholarship forbade marriage. My mother never told me about their “secret marriage” (apparently afraid it
might set a bad example). Therefore, I
never heard stories about a how the sister-roommates managed to hide a secret
marriage, but I can imagine.
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| Wilmer "Jack" Jackson as a Senior at NSU, Voted Most Handsome |
My Father, Wilmer H. “Jack” Jackson was in his late 20’s when
he met Myrtis Lee. He had completed
business school, and then four years of college at Northwestern State Normal,
and taught for several years before entering graduate school at LSU. He majored in chemistry, and was teaching, coaching
basketball, and acting as Principal at Fairview Alpha High School when he met
the little red-head he was to marry.
Jack (as she called him) attended
graduate school at LSU during the summers, and worked during the school
year. He was an athlete, having played
basketball (point guard), football (end), and baseball, and run track at
Northwestern. I always believed that their mutual love of
sports initially drew them together.
Jack spent as much time as he could (when not in classes) around the
coaches and basketball players at LSU.
Myrtis Lee spent time with the same crowd, so their meeting was not
unexpected.
The distance between Coushatta and
Baton Rouge was an impediment to their courtship. However, there was another courting couple,
Anna Mae Posey (a teacher in Coushatta) and Lester Vetter (a student at LSU,
later state representative and mayor of Coushatta) with a similar problem, and
the two couples made many trips together. The long distance courtship ended in Nov.
1938, when Jack and Myrtis Lee were married in Pitkin, LA. Their lives always operated on the School
Calendar, and they married over the Thanksgiving Holiday. Each completed their teaching contracts for
that fall semester, but that did not prevent them from conceiving their first
child – me.
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| Frances Ruth Jackson 1939 |
Myrtis Lee abandoned her career at
LSU, and moved to Coushatta, where the couple lived in a boarding house while
their new home was built. They moved
into the frame home not long before my birth, on Oct. 29, 1939, just a few
weeks short of their first anniversary.
In the fall of 1940, Mother began teaching at Fairview Alpha School, where
her husband was Principal and basketball coach.
She taught English, and encouraged girls to participate in sports.
Jack and Myrtis Lee were teaching
at Fairview the following fall (1941) when the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor
drew the United States into the 2nd World War. Wilmer was 32 at the time, and was teaching
agriculture as well as science. He was
given a deferment in the draft because he provided essential veterinarian
services for farmers in the area – vaccinating animals, inspecting sick
animals, and checking for potential disease outbreaks in animals and
crops. The fact that two of his Uncles
were serving on draft boards in Red River and Natchitoches Parishes probably
helped him, but he worked long, hard hours for the duration of the War. Some of my earliest memories are of going
with him to farms where he would vaccinate cattle, horses, sheep, and
occasionally hogs. On one of these
visits, I remember seeing a cow with rabies.
It was the only time I saw my Daddy put an animal down. He did it immediately without making sure
someone took me away. I also saw a cow
with lockjaw (Tetanus). His experience
with this infectious disease frightened my Daddy so badly that he had me
vaccinated every time I got a scratch. I
must have taken 50 tetanus shots before I was ten.
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| Wilmer "Jacky" Jackson, Jr., Summer of 1943 |
In November of 1942, just as US War
involvement was ramping up, my brother Wilmer H. “Jacky” Jackson, Jr. was born.
Daddy was hunting when Mother went into labor, and she had to wait for
him to get home. The doctor was in Natchitoches. Jacky weighed over 8 pounds, and it was a
hard delivery for Myrtis Lee. Years
later when she had a hysterectomy, the surgeon discovered internal tears that
had not been repaired, and told her she would not have been able to have more
children. However, the birth frightened
Jack so much that he decided that two children were enough.
While her husband did not serve
overseas, Myrtis Lee had four brothers (Glenn, Meredith, Alton, and Lindsey)
and three brothers-in-law (Clint Jackson, Johnny Jackson, and Pete Ballis) in
the military. They served in the Army,
Navy, and the Air Force (after it was created).
As a child, I remember watching the long lines of military trucks in “convoys” driving along the highway in
front of our home. There were huge
trucks filled with materials and men.
There were even trucks carrying tanks and aircraft.
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| Page and Clint Jackson with son John |
During this time, Myrtis Lee became
close friends with Isabelle Lorain Page, who would become her sister-in-law in
1945, when she married Clint Jackson.
Their friendship is documented in the many letters they exchanged over
the years. In the weeks before Myrtis
Lee and Jack were married, Page wrote Myrtis a letter each day. Theirs was a beautiful friendship that lasted
until Page’s untimely death in 1963.
Myrtis Lee’s other dear friend
during this period was her next-door neighbor and Aunt by marriage, Lizzie
Adams, wife of Andrew Adams (brother of her mother-in-law, Ida Belle Adams
Jackson). Aunt Lizzie, Uncle “Ander,” Doris, and Sarah Glen lived
across the highway from us. Daddy bought
the land on which our house was built from his Uncle Andrew Adams.
On the corner, catty-corner across
the road from our house were one of our two other neighbors. The father in this family had a drinking
problem, and on more than one occasion beat his wife. Once, when Daddy was away, she sought refuge
from her husband at our house. When
Daddy returned and learned that Mother let her inside, he was angry. I witnessed the only real fight I ever saw
between my parents. (Not that they never
fought, they just made sure we children didn’t see or hear.)
Daddy was afraid that the husband
would break in and harm Mother or I in a drunken rage. He told Mother to tell the wife to go
away. Mother put her hands on her hips
and said she would not send any woman away from her door into the hands of a
drunken beast. The two of them glared at
each other. Neither gave in; and Daddy
realized that Mother would not be dictated to against her conscious. He never admitted defeat, but he knew better
than to push it further.
When we moved in, the new house did
not have indoor plumbing or electricity, but Mother was proud of the nice
closets. Electricity, through an rural
electric coop, was installed not long after we moved in. The well was located just outside the back
door, and the outhouse was a short walk away, under the big oak tree. By the time Jacky was a baby we had running
water, and an indoor bathroom, but I have great memories of the outhouse. Daddy would take me out there, and wait
outside for me. We played games. My favorite was the Three Little Pigs. He would knock on the door and say, “Little Pig, Little Pig, let me come in.” and I would reply, “Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin.” And we would proceed
through the story, with huffing and puffing, etc.
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| Ida Bele Adams Jackson |
Mother and Daddy went to school
each day, and I stayed with a baby sitter.
Sometimes I stayed with my Jackson Grandparents, Mama Jack and Daddy
Jack. They spoiled me terribly. They took me almost everywhere they went to
work on the farm. I helped Mama Jack in
the garden, and went to the cotton field with Daddy Jack. However, when Daddy Jack went into the “pen” to milk or tend to the cows, I was
not allowed beyond the fence. One day I sneaked through the fence, and sneaked
up to watch him as he milked the little Jersey cow with the vicious kick. When he saw me, he grabbed a switch and
chased me all the way to the house. I
ran so fast, I ran out of my shoes. He
must have worked hard NOT to catch me since his legs were four times the length
of mine, but then Daddy Jack never actually gave me a single spank. Mama Jack had to do that when the occasion
warranted. The family always laughed about
the day Daddy Jack ran me out of my shoes.
When I didn’t say with Mama Jack, a
young neighbor woman kept me. Sometimes
she would take me to visit her parents.
Her Daddy had a big garden, and he grew this plant with soft green fuzzy
leaves. It was tobacco, and he grew it
for two reasons. Tobacco was poison to
insects and they avoided it. By planting
it in his garden, he kept pests away from his vegetables. Even though it killed insects, he dried and
smoked and chewed his own tobacco. I was
fascinated.
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| Wilmer H. "Jack" Jackson, Sr. as a little boy |
After Jacky was born, Daddy’s Aunt
(my Mama Jack’s sister) Mary Ann Adams Jackson Nelson kept us. Aunt Mary Ann’s first husband was Daddy
Jack’s brother. The Adams sisters
married the Jackson brothers in a double ceremony. However, Aunt Mary Ann’s husband Anscar
Jackson and their son Alon both died of “swamp
fever,” probably typhoid. Alon was
just a little older than Daddy, and they were playmates growing up. They didn’t let Along start school until
Daddy was old enough to go along with him.
Daddy told about playing in the cotton barn with Alon before the cotton
was baled. They were jumping from the
rafters into the cotton, and Alon dropped hard and disappeared beneath the
cotton. Daddy tried digging him out and
couldn’t. He ran for help, and by the
time they dug Alon out, his lips were turning blue. He survived that scrape, but succumbed to the
fever. The loss of his playmate was very
hard on Daddy. It showed whenever he
talked about his double first cousin.
Our only other neighbors were the
Lindsey family. Their son Loren was my
best friend and playmate. His mother
sometimes kept Jacky and I when Mother and Daddy were at school. Loren was a little older than me, and the
leader in all our adventures and escapades.
Mr. Lindsey was a great fisherman, and we often ate fish at their house. I felt so grown-up when he let me pick out my
own fish. Now I realize he only gave us
buffalo ribs with no small bones. One
day Loren and I found an old abandoned automobile in a field. We found the axel grease in the wheels, and
began dipping it out with our fingers, and playing with the sticky, oily, black
stuff. I think we painted one
another. Any way, when Mrs. Lindsey
found us we were covered. She filled washtubs
with cold soapy water and washed us for hours.
In spite of her best efforts, my white hair remained dark for several
weeks. Loren went to school in Coushatta
while I went to Fairview Alpha, so we weren’t schoolmates until years later at
NSU.
 |
| Lemoyne Adams |
After Jacky was born, Mother spent
a lot of time with the baby, and I spent more time with Daddy. In the summer and after school, he often took
me with him when he went to visit farms to care for animals. He also took me with him to visit with his
Uncle Edward Adams, Aunt Myrtle and their son Lemoyne. Lemoyne was 7 years older than me, and I
adored him. I would play any game he
invented. Among other things, he taught
me to ride goats, or at least to hang on to their horns until they threw me
off. When Daddy went places with Uncle
Edward and Lemoyne, I often stayed with Mary (the housekeeper) and played with
the children of the farm workers. I
loved this. Before starting school, I
had few playmates, and at Uncle Edwards, there were lots of kids to play
with. I came to believe that June Teenth
was the biggest, the best, and my favorite holiday of the year.
Mother and Daddy had very different
racial attitudes. Mother was raised in a
part of Louisiana where there were almost no Blacks. She was grown before she encountered anyone
of another race. Daddy was raised in
cotton country where there were more Blacks than Whites. His closest neighbors were Black, and his
best friend growing up was Black. Mother
was hesitant and uncertain around Black people, while Daddy was as comfortable
with one race as the other.
Uncle Edward had a pack of dogs
that were mostly kept in pens. He had
bloodhounds and other ground hounds, as well as air hounds. He also had “catch” dogs (mostly Catahoulas) that could hold the prey at
bay. His hounds were mostly for hunting
deer or hogs in the swamps. He also had
some fine bird dogs (for quail and pheasants), and some duck dogs for
waterfowl. Occasionally one of the bird
dogs would become a pet and be kept in the yard. The same was true of his favorite squirrel
dogs, usually small mixed terriers called “Fice.” Uncle Edward had a big hunting horn made from
a bull’s horn. When he blew it, the dogs
knew they were going hunting and they would go wild, barking and howling and
jumping. Sometimes he would let me try
to blow that horn.
People were always giving Uncle
Edward small, orphaned animals. For many
years he had a little herd of pet deer in a side pasture with a high fence. I remember helping him feed a small fawn from
a big milk bottle. The fawn could pull
so hard, she would almost jerk the bottle from my hands, and every now and then
she would “hunch,” and almost knock me over. Giving a bottle to a fawn is not easy. The King of this herd was a big buck named
Bill. Uncle Edward was the only human
Bill respected. When he was a fawn,
Uncle Edward gave Bill cigarettes to eat, and that deer became fond of
tobacco. When Bill grew big, Uncle
Edward loved inviting an unsuspecting victim into the deer field. The big buck would go straight for the
package of cigarettes in the man’s shirt pocket. If the man resisted, Bill would rear up and
literally take him to the ground to get the tobacco. Uncle Edward considered this a great joke.
On another occasion, a neighbor
brought Uncle Edward a litter of orphaned baby skunks. He had their “scent” glands removed, and raised them like cats. He decided to give one of the weaned baby
skunks to me, and I was delighted. I can
still remember my Mother’s reaction to my bringing home that baby skunk. I cried and pouted for weeks because she
wouldn’t let me keep my skunk.
Uncle Edward loved teasing my
Mother. She was a favorite of his, with
just enough temper to make teasing fun.
When I was really little, he delighted in teaching me curse words. He would only teach me one at a time, and
then wait until I used it in front of Mother.
I eventually caught onto the game, and learned the new words, but didn’t
use Uncle Edward’s words in front of my Mother.
About the time my brother was big
enough to go places with our Daddy, Daddy realized I was able to understand
what the men talked about. He decided I
was too old to go with him on his rounds.
I was crushed. This was the
first, and the most awful rejection of my life.
However, I had a bit of revenge.
My brother wouldn’t go with Daddy.
Daddy tried, but Jacky was very much a Mother’s boy, and he would not go
with Daddy without Mother. Instead,
Daddy went off alone, and I had to stay home with Jacky and Mother.
I started school when I was 5, and
rode to school every day with Mother and Daddy.
We would drop Jacky off at Aunt Mary Ann’s. We had to get to school more than an hour
before classes started, because Daddy coached basketball, and the team
practiced before school most of the year.
They didn’t have a gym, but played outdoors on a clay court. They usually had only 11 or 12 players, and
whoever was left when they scrimmaged had to baby-sit me. I learned to pass and dribble when I was
still mastering the alphabet and counting.
In spite of their lack of a gym or fancy facilities, Daddy’s team won
the Class C State Championship in 1948.
Mother taught English in the High
School. The gap between our worlds was
large, and I knew little about her as a teacher, but she brought stacks of
papers home, and graded them after Jacky was put to bed. Daddy was given the task of reading me to
sleep. I especially remember a book
called “The Twin Grizzlies of Admiralty
Island. Daddy didn’t read “down” to me. He read real books with real stories. He had the beginning readers at home, and I
read those long before I started school.
No one (including me) was ever sure whether I memorized the books or was
really reading the words. At some point
there was no difference, I had learned the words and began reading to Jacky.
On Sundays, we attended church at Zion
Baptist Church near Fairview Alpha School. Mother’s family had been Methodist,
but when she was growing up, there was no Methodist Church in Pitkin, and she
attended the Baptist Church. She was a
dedicated Baptist all her life. Daddy
was raised a Baptist and became a Deacon in his later years. Sometimes I thought that Daddy married Mother
so she would keep him on the straight and narrow when he was tempted to
stray. It certainly turned out that way.
The Minister at Zion was Rev. Ben
Joiner, Sr. Bro. Ben was a powerful preacher, and could
become dramatic and intense in his sermons.
I best remember his preaching the end of the World. According to my memory, (and this was before
I was 8) Brother Ben had studied the Book of Revelation, and calculated the approach
of the end times and the Second Coming.
He gave us the date and we began to prepare. When the day came, I was very let down, but
noticed that the adults weren’t too surprised.
I think the seeds of my skepticism were sown then.
 |
| Myrtis Lee Heard Jackson as a Young teacher |
Looking back over those years and
others that followed, I realize that my parents had an unusual
relationship. They shared almost every
thing, working together at school all day, and raising their family together. They had mutual friends, common interests,
and shared daily experiences. Very few
couples (outside of farmers) share as much of their daily lives. They especially shared a love of sports. They never missed a game played by their
school, and they attended college games whenever possible. When I was young, they listened to sporting
events on the radio, equally intense in their mutual concentration, seeing the
action in their imaginations, and sharing their reactions. Later when we had television, sports were the
most watched programs. In their later
years, when Daddy’s hearing failed, they would usually turn the sound down and
just watch. Sometimes Mother would have
the radio on, listening to one game while watching another. From time to time she would give Daddy a
score or report action from the second game.
After Daddy’s death, Mother continued to watch sports. Occasionally, she would tell me what Daddy
would have said or thought about some action in the game.
 |
| Principal and Coach Wilmer H. "Jack" Jackson, Sr. about 1948 |
That 1948 State Championship was
the climax of Daddy’s coaching career.
That summer we moved from Red River Parish to Logansport, and began a
new chapter in our lives.
TO BE CONTINUED.
C.S. Lewis was a
professor at Oxford and Cambridge Universities, a novelist (whose works of
science fiction have been adapted for stage and films) and a convert from atheism
to Christianity. Called “the Apostle to the Skeptics” Lewis’s most
influential works (including Mere
Christianity) offer a rational basis for Christian faith. Seventy-two years ago, when the Evil of
Nazism appeared about to triumph over all that was good, the BBC asked C.S.
Lewis to explain to the people of the British Isles exactly what Christians
believe and why. In the midst of
breaking news of death, unspeakable destruction, and spreading human suffering,
millions tuned-in to hear this gentle, humorous, scholar speak of decency,
fair-play, and the innate morality instilled in human beings by their
Creator. The first series of talks was entitled
– RIGHT
AND WRONG AS A CLUE TO THE MEANING OF THE UNIVERSE. 
While Lewis is
no longer able to defend his position, Francis Collins (physician, scientist,
and Director of the National Institutes of Health) advances essential arguments. In his 2006, book, The Language of God: A Scientist Presents
Evidence for Belief, Dr. Collins seeks to bridge the chasm between
science and faith (Part One). This book
is a must-read for all interested in the great questions of human existence
(Part Two); faith in science and faith in God (Part Three); and the moral
practice of science and medicine: bioethics (Appendix).
