Farewell to my Hero

JR Turner was a man who lived at Wing who I dearly loved as I grew up.. He traveled the world, and told me many stories about his adventures, fueling that wanderlust desire in me. Without his stories, our world travels might never have happened at all. I wrote this story to be read at his Memorial service, when he passed away this year, at 102.

      When I was a young boy growing up in Wing, The Great Depression and World War Two were fresh on everybody's mind. Many of the adults I grew up around were tired, and somewhat beaten down by the hardships of life. But one man I knew in Wing was never beaten down. Never tired. I knew I could always count on him for a new, wonderful story about his latest adventure when he was in town. He always had new treasures in hand, such as nuggets of gold, found "1000 miles from the blacktop," And, he had a small eagle quill feather, shaped to be used by the Indians of Mexico to pick up gold dust.

      My Dad went to the Post Office each morning. If he happened to mention that JR Turner was back, I always quickly found a good reason to walk to Turner's store, knowing he would have another great adventure to tell me about, making this a big day in my life. I loved JR Turner.

Over the years, tales from JR's wanderlust began to build a strong resolution in me. Someday, I would go to far away places. See new, exciting things and people. Just like JR Turner.

      When my wife and I sold our business 14 years ago, I was overjoyed to find that my wife Barbara had the same wanderlust that JR planted in me many years ago. The first thing we did was lease our home out for a year, and start living out those dreams

      Visiting with JR when he was pushing 100, I knew his memories were fading fast. But when I mentioned King Leo, the prize Black Mammoth jack that was at the heart of the Gillum/Turner/ Compton super mule breeding enterprise in the early 1900's, his eyes lit up, and he began to excitedly tell me all about King Leo.

  

      I mentioned the Lost Silver Mine story, supposedly right across the Fourche La Fave River from the Big Rock. His eyes lit up once again, and he became transformed; he excitedly told me of mobilizing 100 men, all walking the near side of Fourche Mountain, arm to arm, looking for it. He told me he's convinced it's right across the river from the Nancy Turner place. I truly believe, if his knees would but have allowed it, he and I would have quickly been on our way. One last, great search for the lost silver mine.

      Knowing full well that some of the Old Gillums were solemn, serious men, I asked JR, "What did you think about the Old Gillums?" That question troubled JR. He thought about it a long time. Finally, he said, "Well, the Gillums were not like other people." I knew instantly. JR had just named my book about the Gillums.

      JR Turner was a true Icon of Wing. He never lost his sense of humor, or his love of adventure and excitement. I think this, along with Effie Turner's genetics, helped to carry him beyond the century mark, which very few of us can ever hope to attain. Maybe we could all learn a thing or two from JR Turner's life.

This world is just not the same without JR Turner in it. I will never forget him. He will always remain one of my heroes.

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 Barbara and I are about to hit the road again, with her sister Frances and her husband Bill. We discovered a little, narrow strip of land up through Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana and Ohio that we had not really seen and explored yet, so we just have to go check it out. Should be back in about 1-2 weeks. This is my last post until we get back. By the way, my reading of The Summer of 1956 can be seen by going to talesfromthesouth.com. click the first choice, then scroll down until you find my story.

     Thanks for reading!