Known affectionately as "The Chief" by his two loving and admiring sons, Johnny (as he was called by his peers) was an unusual individual in that he was an extremely hard-working, no nonsense type man who would not compromise his standards for anyone or anything. He taught the virtues of hard work and patience, and understood nature, animals and the environment. He claimed to be part Indian, was probably not, but he did have their inherent feel for the world in which he lived. He was a mystery man in many ways, never revealing his inner most thoughts or emotions, nor telling anything of his past or family. I never knew that he had a brother (William) until he showed up on our front doorstep in West Palm Beach one day. I never knew that he had a sister (Lucille Tattersall) until he died. I never met my paternal grandparents.
Johnny was a devoted father. He was a good golfer, raised greyhounds for racing as a hobby; he had a gambling streak but was cautious with it (he never bet the farm). He was a very moderate drinker, understood dietary laws and practiced them, exercised daily and insisted on doing any job the right way. He was an electrician, brick mason, carpenter, gardener, animal husbandry practitioner, and could fix most anything. He is missed.
Footnote: the last thing he said to me before he died was "I neverjoined any church, but if I had I would have joined your church, the Mormons."
