Jonny could have been a movie star – handsome, young and fit, and a ringer for Jimmy Stewart. With a deep passion for flying, when he was 15 years old, he’d sneak out and fly a Piper Cub Coupe from Harvey Young airport – He’d go camping, which meant sleeping on the ground next to the plane, so he could take off at sunrise.
He has so many cool stories of growing up back in the old days, running around with his Cascia Hall schoolmates, Bob LaFortune and others with names we see on the front of important buildings downtown. He was dapper, he was cool and he is my bestie.
Jonny is a graduate of West Point Academy, he was there during the mid 1940’s. He hung out with two Heisman trophy winners – Glen Davis who he admired greatly, and Doc Blanchard, a guy he respected not only as a phenomenal sportsman, but for his propensity as a consistent babe magnet.
Two of his good friends, Alexander Hague and Hank Emerson went on to become famous Generals, and they stayed in touch on and off over the years.
Jonny met some very interesting people back in his youth. One of the stories he tells is about a buddy’s wife, who cheated on her husband with Howard Hughes. Jonny went with his friend to Hughes’ apartment, and punched him out.
He has seen sixteen U.S. Presidents take office, and flown his plane in a movie starring John Wayne.
Jonny was from the greatest generation, the last of the tough guys. The men who respected women’s lib, but would open the door for you anyway.
I met him back in the 1980’s – he told me I had great legs, better than Betty Grable’s and I believed him. His smile as wide as his face, his movie-star good looks would melt butter. Now, thirty years since I met him, he lives in assisted living. We talk on the phone every day, and I see him a couple of times each week.
This man who grew up so privileged, knows everyone where he lives, all the people working at the local Walmart, and goes out of his way to make time to talk to anyone who gives him a smile. Jonny has an iPad, and it blows my mind that at 93, he has learned how to navigate technology. Sure, he’s no wiz, but he’s mastered how to find Kindle books on Amazon and how to google ‘the best legs in show business’ (I didn’t make the cut there unfortunately).
I grin when he talks about ‘The iPad’ in such a revered tone – This is because Jonny thinks all the information he finds on his iPad is actually stored within the device, every little thing he reads about is contained within, and when you try to explain he doesn’t quite grasp the concept of the world-wide-web. But hey, who cares right? Just so long as you can look up a great pair of pins.
His journey to the new residence has been a tough transition. His wife of seventy years died, the beautiful home they lived in too big for him to manage. He wouldn’t move in with family, and he wouldn’t leave Tulsa, Oklahoma – so he had to get new digs somewhere else. Hence assisted living.
Did I mention he’s practically deaf? He blames it on the aircraft engines. He wears high-end hearing aids which do help him to hear some of what you say. We speak on the phone most days. He has a fancy contraption which types out what I say on a small screen, but it is not geared for a British accent, so sometimes it gets a little hairy.
Me – “Hello John”
Jonny – “Jude?”
Me – “Yes, it’s Jude.”
Jonny – “Is this Jude?”
Me – “Yes, How are you today? How was your night?”
Jonny – “How is your Book coming along?”
Me – “Great thanks.”
Jonny – pausing…..-“I had a terrible night?”
Me- “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Jonny – “What chapter are you on?” Me – “Ten. Are you tired?”
Jonny – “When? I got up and peed three times, and breakfast was awful.”
And so on.
I often wonder how some individuals in life seem to be gifted with so many amazing talents. Jonny is smart, he is a great engineer, he piloted P-51 Mustangs through the Grand Canyon, and F-80 Shooting stars, and is famous for his dead-stick landings in an F-86 Sabre. In his spare time he married, fathered three children, and painted water-colours.
I have at least ten of them hanging on my wall – and when I moved back to the UK he would write me letters. On the front of the envelope he would write my address, but on the back of the envelope he would paint something (this is one below) – the postman loved this……
Pretty cool right?
He paints in the small room he calls home. It’s not a very big room, just large enough for his twin bed, dresser, chair and a desk (no tv). There are many photos there to see. Pictures of his darling wife, his beloved daughter who died far too young, and his two boys who he loves dearly. There are notes from General Hague, and several photographs of the planes Jonny flew.
The staff where he lives think him pretty dapper. That’s because he dresses so snappy. Shirt, tie and he NEVER goes anywhere without a hat.
When I go and see him we always talk about books – he loves to read, and together we load books from Amazon onto the iPad for him to read – most of the time they are about flying.
He’s a great host, there’s a ready stash of prune juice, gum and Vicks in that order. All which I am offered. Then he settles down and tells me a story, and when he starts speaking, it’s like stepping back in time. He’s so articulate you feel you are really there. The women are lovely, the men strong and handsome. The cars are fast and life is vibrant and exciting. There are no computers or cell phones or social media. A good time was a malt, a movie and if you were lucky, a kiss from your girl. He reminisces, and I wish I had been born back then.
One of Jonny’s favourite things about Assisted living, well the only other one besides the food, is he has had his first Pedicure. This absolutely floored him. It took months to convince him to bare his feet to a stranger, but oh, once he did…..he tells me all about it, and then giggles to say the lady massaged his feet and legs – he almost blushes, acting sheepish as he admits how wonderful it felt.
…..Jonny loves Gump – loves him like a son. If I am a star to Jonny, then Gump is the moon. His face lights up at the sight of him, and he gives him grief about his bad hair and scruffy outfits.
He always tells Gump he’s been “doin’ fine so long as I keep drinkin’ ” and the two of them giggle co-conspiratorially, then ramble on talking nonsense. Somehow, his hearing is miraculously improved when Gump speaks, and they like to gang up on me and tease me.
Jonny tells Gump he’s going to steal me away from him and we’re running away together because I have ‘great legs’, though chances are he can’t see them so well anymore, or he probably wouldn’t think it.
He had a rough go of it last week, and was in hospital. I spent a lot of time with him there. I watched him while he slept, looked at the face that was once just like Jimmy Stewart, and I thought about how handsome and alive he was in that uniform back in his West Point Days.
I thought about the woman he loved, the daughter he mourned and the decency he exhibits every single day to all who speak to him.
How he made the young nurse smile, how he called the paramedic ‘Doctor’ (made that guy’s day).
I thought about how much he likes to hold my hand
How he’s gone from listening to a wireless radio to operating an iPad.
I thought about everything he must have seen in his 93 years, how he ran with an elite Tulsa ratpack, hung out at Southern Hills Country Club
…and now he walks with a walker, only speaking to the people who work where he lives, and the young pharmacy assistant at Walmart who he thinks is pretty.
Yet he’s not bitter. Sure, he gets pissed off from time to time when his legs are wobbly, or he can’t remember something, or when his hernia hurts. But when you knock on the door and he bellows “COME IN!” you know when you step inside that small room, there will be a huge smile across his face, a chair for you to have a seat, the offer of a piece of gum or a glass of prune juice, and a story that will make your ears curl.
Love you Jonny –
Jude
(legs)
