Veterans Day came and went earlier this week sadly without one of Whitesboro’s most loved and well-respected veterans. Local business owner and community stalwart Jack Thomas Humes passed away on Nov. 4 at the age of 86.
Jack and his wife Sandy have been in Whitesboro for the past 25 years. Retiring here was one of many adventures the Humeses undertook during their 64 years of marriage.
Jack was a friend of mine and I’m just now beginning to wrap my head around the loss.
Jack was born in Iowa in 1937. After his first year of college, he received an appointment to West Point where he later graduated. Years later, he returned to teach at his alma mater.
Jack spent the first part of his adult life as a career military man.
He retired a Lieutenant Colonel. He then embarked upon a second career in electrical engineering, earned a Master’s Degree in the field and practiced it successfully in Southern California.
Then, in 1999, Jack and Sandy undertook a third adventure. They came to Whitesboro and opened an antique store downtown. It was Yellow Front Antiques on the south side of Main.
They later relocated to a larger building across the street. Butterfield Stage Stop Emporium is still there today.
I graduated from high school and left about the time Jack and Sandy showed up here, so it was not until several years later that I got to know them. It was January of 2008 and I had just been named the editor of the Whitesboro News-Record.
I knew Jack by reputation. My grandmother had written stories about Keep Whitesboro Beautiful (KWB) of whom Jack was a founding member, and she mentioned him in passing.
One day, not very long after the new editor had been announced in the newspaper, Jack walked in the front door. We could see him coming from across the street.
“Here comes that grumpy old man Jack Humes,” the lady who worked the front desk announced to the office.
Jack had a reputation of being a bit of a curmudgeon and this lady did not realize it was all just a show. I had never met the man, but I picked up on it as soon as he walked in.
“I want to talk to the editor,” he bellowed as he walked in the door. “I want to see who is running this place. I’ve got a complaint.”
I came around the corner and bellowed right back— though I had never met him.
“That’s me,” I grumbled. “What’s your problem? I don’t have time to mess with guys like you.”
I put on a show just like he had just done for us.
He laughed and introduced himself and we’ve been friends ever since.
The lady who worked the front desk could not believe her eyes— or her ears. She honestly thought Jack was as grouchy as he acted. I saw through the facade right off the bat.
I gave it right back to him and we were friends instantly. The “I want to see the editor” shtick took hold. It was a routine we played out countless times over the next 15 years.
The next Monday Jack came by and said he wanted to take me to lunch. Never one to turn down a free meal, I hopped in his pick-up. We ended up at La Hacienda at a Rotary Club meeting. He didn’t tell me he was bringing me as a new recruit. They voted on my membership the next week and I joined the club. I will always be grateful to Jack for introducing me to Rotary International.
Jack was passionate about our community. He was a founding member of KWB and he died with a mission in his heart to see a museum open in our town. That’s a mission we should pick up and run with.
He genuinely cared about people, but he was a straight shooter. He would tell you what he thought. I’m so sorry I missed Jack a few weeks ago when he came by the office looking for the editor. Jennifer told him I was on campus that day, but that I’d follow up with him. I regret not being timelier with my follow up. I guess I thought I had more time.
But I do remember the last time I heard his voice.
He was among many citizens who showed up at the Oct. 15 City Council meeting to speak on behalf of the now former City Administrator. Never one to shy away from sharing his opinion, Jack told them what he thought. In fact, he gave them hell. I listened to the recording and chuckled a bit when I heard Jack stand to speak.
“He’s really going for it,” I thought to myself. “I’d expect no less.”
Jack Humes came from a different time. He proudly served his country in multiple theaters across the globe. He was a Vietnam veteran and a proud Army man. He was a member of that generation not quite old enough to fight in World War II or Korea. The Cold War and Vietnam were Jack’s era. But he revered those veterans who came before him.
He loved his wife, and he cherished his family with a passion for which words just can’t describe. He loved his community— our community. We could all take a lesson from Jack.
I’ve been around this same downtown office long enough to see some of our finest leave this earthly realm. There was Jimmy Tom McDonald. We lost him some years back.
Donnie Ferguson was a great community leader. Charlie Whitecotton was a friend of mine. There were all the other Rotarians Jack and I used to eat lunch with. All have gone on— Charlie Baum, Joe West, Girsh Patel, Ron McMillan and Ralph Burton— among others. All fine men. Our finest.
As was Jack, and he is with them again.
The longer I do this job, the more of these tributes I write— but writing these eulogies is somewhat cathartic. And I hope they serve to keep our friends’ memories alive. Jack deserves to be remembered.
He was the first one to volunteer. Whether it was at the Boy Scouts’ cake auction, KWB, the downtown Christmas or any number of ministries at the First Presbyterian Church— Jack served.
He loved his family. He loved his community. He loved his friends, and I loved him.
Jack’s obituary can be read on page 3 of this issue of the News-Record.