John James Pershing Heaton

My dad. John James Pershing Heaton was not a man of physical stature but from the view of a freckled chubby boy growing up at 1907 N. Maryland Avenue he was a wonderment. I first met my dad at a very young age (okay an attempt at humor). We lived in a Jim Walter home in the Northeast corner of Plant City near I-4. Our home was simple with little fanfare - well there was a lot of fanfare as we had no AC and a box fan in the window was all that kept us cool in the Florida heat. Dad worked at the VC Mobil Chemical Plant where he retired. He worked shift work and my favorite shift for him to work was the morning shift. Mom would rise early (she lived early) and fix his dinner - often fried chicken. You have not lived until you wake up to the smell of mama's fried chicken and biscuits prepared for daddy's lunch. Daddy worked hard. He enjoyed gardening, had a milk cow he kept milked, bought mom chickens and a once upon a time a goat (he was a lot of fun). He planted every fruit tree known to man because mom liked all those kind of trees (fig, grapefruit, grape vine, pomegranate, persimmon, hot peppers and even a small banana tree). He adorned my mother. People may have thought that Mary Heaton ran the home and to some degree that was true but my mom worshipped "John Dear" and he just loved doing things for her.

There are so many memories of daddy. He spent time in the TB hospital in Tampa when they thought he had TB. Don't think he did (Peggy and Brad may have to clear that up). He learned to do some craft things while there including making marble lamps and somewhere in that time period he hand-crafted a number of log cabins. I have treasured those and shared them with my sons and grandsons. One of the fondest memories of childhood was the trip to Iowa in the green Econline Ford van with Aunt Cathryn. The van had the motor between the seats of the driver and passenger and I remember one day when dad was working on the motor it blew up on him and sprayed him with hot steam. On a trip to visit Peggy at FC he lost control of the Falcon as we exited on Hillsbourgh Avenue hitting a light pole. He broke his ankle and I broke my nose. Daddy could always predict weather after that.

Daddy was not a preacher. Someone said he tried to lead a song once and when someone laughed at him he never tried again. He lead prayer, waited on the Lord's table and that was about it. We were always at services 30 minutes before time to begin. I doubt daddy was ever late. He was not a deep thinker with the Bible but he was a faithful man in his own quiet way.

Not being big in stature was interesting for his five sons that towered over him. Brad and Mark got into a fight in the living room once and all daddy had to do was step in between them and the fight was over. Respect. His six children loved and respected their daddy. His word was law and his law was immediate. None of this telling you three times business. He did not put up with a lot stuff cause life was short. I remember a few times he used the belt. More so on my older brothers (smile goes here).

We did not have TV for a long time but who needed it. I remember vividly the trip to Tampa to Sears where daddy bought an electric guitar. He also had a harmonica and he could crank up the music with the guitar and harmonica. He must have been self taught but he enjoyed playing. Don't think he played very much and very long. Too much work to do.

Life on Maryland Avenue was idyllic in many ways. We never had a lot of money and mama worked hard to make the money stretch as far as possible and often there was more stretch than money. Daddy did the best he could. But in my whole life we never went hungry. I knew I had grown up when I could eat sweetened cereal. Rarely - I mean rarely - did we ever eat out. That fond memory is when we all went to the McDonalds across from Busch Gardens (when they had the penguins). To this day if I go to McDonalds and order a regular hamburger, small fry and vanilla shake - I go back to that day.

I miss my dad. He has been away now since 1989. A year earlier mom had been diagnosed with brain cancer and she went through her treatments and it seemed she was doing better. I had never seen daddy cry but one day at Aunt Cathryn's where they were staying as we were working on their new home in Trenton he broke down in front of me. My how he loved her. I guess I never quite understood that as much as that moment. I will always cherish that moment. His brother Floyd had died in Marianna, Florida and Karen and I were living in Perry. The funeral was on Monday. He came over Sunday evening and early Monday morning he and I drove to Marianna for the funeral. As we prepared to leave for the serve he sat in my car complaining about something he ate. He was having a heart attack or a prelim to one sitting in my car. After the funeral we drove home to Perry where he spent the night. Tuesday morning after playing with the children he drove back to Archer. Some time after 11pm that evening he got up from bed complaining (as he did the day before) of something he ate, took a few steps and died. Karen and I rushed to the hospital in Gainesville. There was my daddy lying on a table. Mom was in another room lost and forlorn. The love of her life had left her. She was 58. She would die 355 days later at the age of 59 of a broken heart - at least that is what I believe and it does not matter but what was there to live for in life without her John Dear.

Daddy taught me a lot of things that I did not realize until years later. He was a Army Veteran. One day he took a map and drew his trips on the map - North Africa, Sicily, Italy, Europe. He was in General Patton's Redball Express. I wish my children could have had more time with him. It is probably a good thing he did not know my grandchildren because they are hard enough to live with as I spoil them - I can only imagine how so much more spoiled they would be with Popi John.

Daddy, I love you still and while I miss you I know you are safe in the bosom of Abraham - and that is all that matters. Good night daddy.