Being one of the younger Kilgore first cousins, I have always
been enamored with the lore that surrounded my Daddy’s older brother, Johnie Thomas Kilgore. He must have been a gracious and kind
individual, for through the years I have only heard his name spoken with
love, reverence and respect.
Dying at age 25, Uncle Johnie has always stayed young in our memory of him. In contrast, Johnie’s siblings lived
to experience long, full and productive lives--many living into their 90s. We, the Kilgore cousins, are part of
that heritage.
When I was born in December of the following year, I received that distinction. The spelling of my first name changed by the time I began first grade to “Johnnie,” and by age 12 to “Johnny.” But no matter how my name was spelled, I am the namesake of a person I never knew, but always heard of through Granny Kilgore, my parents, and the rest of the family.
During the 2012 Kilgore Cousins Reunion, under the old oak
trees at Granny Kilgore’s place, we met for the evening around the campfire
to have a wiener roast, to fellowship, and to tell stories. The last story told that evening was
by our cousin, Ronald J. McKeever.
He told of Uncle Johnie’s death and shared some details I have never
heard before. I asked Ron
to write down what he shared that night for this blog post. Uncle Johnie is an “unknown soldier”
to many in our family. He is
certainly part of the mystique found in our family history.
This is the story Ron told us, and has now written for us.
Our uncle Johnie died in 1939 as a result of a
motorcycle accident in Shelby County. I faintly remember him giving us
sticks of gum when he would come home to visit. He was employed at
Bayliss Machine and Welding in Birmingham and usually rode the bus every
other week to visit with his parents, our Grandpa and Granny Kilgore.
He was with a man and his girlfriend, on the motor, when it crashed. He
spent a couple of weeks in the hospital, in and out of a coma, until he
passed.
During the early 60's, I had a deacon who came from the
Helena area where the accident occurred and I mentioned it to him. He remembered
visiting the wreck area as a 12 year old to see what happened. He carried me to the place,
which has since been paved. It was a dirt road and the accident
happened on a curve. I mentioned this to Mom (Lois Kilgore McKeever)
about visiting the place and she shared some other information with me.
It seems that Johnie was the only one hurt in the wreck. During the
time in the hospital, he would moan, “They took my money”. Strangely,
his wallet was never found. Mom remembered some of the family who
visited him mentioning that he said, “They hit me”. More than 70 years
ago, there would not have been the forensic testing to determine if this was
a crime since there were two witnesses who said that it was a wreck. Both walked
away...Johnie died. No way to prove it, but it seems to have been the
thought that Johnie did not die from the accident. Only God knows for
sure.
I never visit Johnie's grave but that I wonder if there
were other circumstances surrounding his death. I know this much. He was much loved by his
family, especially by the girls since he was their protector...drove the school bus...and loved his mom
and dad. So sad...
Ron McKeever
I thank Ron for sharing this story with us at the reunion and
now on the Kilgore Cousins blog. Uncle Johnie’s grave at Bennett Cemetery is next to those
of John W. and Sarah Kilgore,
our grandparents. As a young
child, I was always fascinated with Uncle Johnie’s tombstone. It was different from all the
others in the cemetery.
There is a picture of Uncle Johnie imprinted on a white porcelain oval
attached in the middle of his headstone. Anyone walking by can see how Uncle
Johnie looked—always young and handsome. He is immortalized as such to all of us who never knew
him. His life will live on in
our memory and now in this story.
At the bottom of Uncle Johnie's head gravestone are the words, "another link is broken in our beloved band...another chain is forming in a better land..."
As of this writing that chain is complete because Johnie's parents and all his brothers and sisters now reside in that heavenly land. For that we rejoice!
I sign off now as Johnny Warren Kilgore, named after my uncle Johnie and my Father, Cecil Warren Kilgore who joined that chain this past April 2012. What a legacy these two left as I bear the proud name of KILGORE.
Johnny Kilgore, eldest son of Cecil Kilgore |
Site centers around the descendants of John W. and Sarah Kilgore of Nauvoo, Alabama who had 9 children and 30 grandchildren, the Kilgore Cousins. The family has multiplied and is scattered throughout the US. This site is an aid to connect and rediscover each other as family.
Friday, July 6, 2012
REMEMBERING JOHNIE THOMAS KILGORE
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I remember Mom (Lois) talking about how close whe and Uncle Johnie were. She and Pop had a baby born to live only a few hours. This was happening as Uncle Johnie was killed. Mom was not able to go to his funeral so they brought the casket to her so she could view his body.
ReplyDeleteFrances Walther
ReplyDelete11:16 AM (July 7, 2012)
What I was told by Mother (Ruth Kilgore Spain) about Johnie: She said Papa Kilgore was so mad when she and Daddy got married, he would not let her have her clothes. Johnie sneaked them out and brought them to her via the school bus. Also, I was always told that I had his long fingers. He was a very handsome fella. Mama Kilgore always had a picture of his girlfriend hanging on the wall.
The above comment was sent to my personal e-mail address by our cousins, Frances Spain Walther. Johnny Kilgore.
Mom (Lois) often said that when they walked to school at Poplar Springs, other older children would pick on them and taunt them unless Johnie were along. He protected the younger ones. Somewhere there is a photo of the old 1930-ish school bus which Johnie drove. -- Sometime in the mid 1950s, I was in a play at WCHS in Double Springs and needed a jacket to wear. Mom gave me Johnie's sport coat, the kind with a belt in the back that went half-way around. I was so insecure that I rejected it and wouldn't have been caught dead wearing it. Over the years I've regretted that, as it felt like I was dishonoring his memory. I was a kid; what can we say? I'm glad we're doing something here to honor him, cousins.
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