David Naugher A Tribute
Following the allied victories in Europe and Japan, most of our fighting men and women came back home. Those who endured, first hand, the horrors of war in kill-or-be-killed situations, were often reluctant to talk of their experiences. Perhaps, World War II was, in many respects, a nightmare that most would just as soon forget. Yet, stories of the war emerged. Hollywood made movie after movie about the different theaters of the war, glamorizing and glorifying war as only Hollywood can. Slowly, the political aspects of that war made it into our history books and subsequent generations gained a limited perspective of why we entered the war and its impact on the American economy. Small town America saw a lot of its young men and women off to war. Pontotoc, Mississippi was no exception. I would venture to say that practically every Pontotoc family had a family member or relative involved in the war effort, whether that effort involved the enlisted services or a voluntary effort on the home front. Every family experienced rationing in one form or another whether it was nylon stockings, rubber products, petroleum, and certain food items, while available scrap iron was collected for the war effort. On February 8, 2007, another member of "The Greatest Generation," David Naugher of Pontotoc, died of heart failure after a few days of hospitalization. Mr. David was eighty-nine. Of his education and military service, Mr. David’s obituary noted, "He graduated from Pontotoc High School in 1936 and from Mississippi A&M [now Mississippi State University] with a B.S. degree in agricultural education in 1940. After graduating, he worked in Ripley [MS] for the Farm Security Administration until he was drafted into the U.S. Army in 1941. He served more than four years and was involved in seven battles and campaigns, including the invasion of Casablanca and North Africa, Tunisia, Sicily, Anzio, Naples, Rome, France, Belgium, the Ardennes and the Battle of the Bulge. He received two Purple Hearts and the Bronze Star." For me, and, perhaps, for most who read this, "those far away places with strange sounding names," are sights we’ve never seen. One brief sentence cannot do justice to the rightful place in history for these cities and regions nor the impact of the war on the lives of all who fought there and especially the life of one, David Naugher. However, their mention serves to remind us that life is a gift from God, and for a soldier to have survived as many battles and campaigns as David Naugher, such is no less than a small miracle. Mr. David’s obituary noted, "After his discharge, he returned to Pontotoc and, along with his brother, John, formed and managed Naugher Dairy Farm. He was later joined in the farm by his two sons. He served on the Pontotoc School Board of Trustees. He was a member of the American Legion, the Veterans of Foreign Wars and the Disabled American Veterans. He was a founding member of the Mississippi Chapter of the Veterans of the Battle of the Bulge." I knew Mr. David, largely through his faithfulness at First Baptist Church, Pontotoc. He and his wife, formerly, Sarah Carter Schaen, were members there when my family returned to Pontotoc in 1953. Mr. David died knowing me better than I knew him, on a personal level. He and Miss Sarah have been ardent supporters of Ridge Rider News, and, on one occasion, I recall Miss Sarah sharing with me concerning Mr. David’s defense of my editorial comments when another reader wrote to express disagreement. While my conversations with Mr. David, through the years, have been rather limited, I knew him to be a man of strong principles, and an outstanding husband and father. He didn’t publish a newsletter of his thoughts and experiences for me to read, but I had the opportunity to read his life as he lived it, both in the church and the community. I always liked what I read of him. Many years ago a farming accident crushed his right hand, and most of it was lost through amputation. The accident did not crush his spirit. He learned to accept his disability without a trace of bitterness. If he ever spoke to me without flashing a smile of encouragement, I can’t recall it. At his wake, I was drawn to a picture of him in his Army uniform, and the smile on his face, as a young man, looked the same as it did when I last saw him alive. A few years ago our church staff taped an interview with David Naugher. In that interview, Mr. David recounted a couple of harrowing wartime experiences. Once, in the night crossing of a river, Mr. David told of being under enemy fire. Three of the men with him were shot and killed; he survived. On a different occasion, his foxhole buddy took the first watch of the night so Mr. David could sleep. At daybreak, he awoke to find his buddy had been struck and killed by an unexploded mortar round. Like many others with similar wartime experiences, Mr. David was left wondering why he lived when others around him fell and died. At Mr. David’s funeral, Dr. Ken Hester, pastor of FBC, Pontotoc, may have supplied the best answer to the "why" question. Dr. Hester stated, "Ecclesiastes 3 says, ‘To every thing there is a season. And a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born and a time to die.’ During the war years, it was not time for Mr. David to die. In the plan of God, Mrs. Sarah, David was to be your husband. In the plan of God, Jima, James Schaen was to be your father and David Naugher was to be your Daddy. In the plan of God, Jon David and Carter, you had to be born of Sarah and David Naugher. Looking at all of these children and grandchildren, if anyone can say that God has a purpose for their life, y'all can." "Ecclesiastes goes on to say, ‘A time to kill and a time to heal.’ Not only was Mr. David a part of the war effort, he was also part of the peace effort after the war. Healing took place in building the memorials and establishing relationships with some German families. He also taught school to veterans entitled ‘On the Farm Training.’ And, in 1947, Mr. David Naugher taught the first integrated class at Pontotoc High School." For much of his life, following the war, Mr. David ran a dairy farming operation. In those years, the Naugher family helped put food on the table for many a family that was willing to work for a modest wage on the Naugher Dairy Farm. By all accounts he was fair with his workers, and both he and Miss Sarah encouraged their hired help to attend weekly church services. If memory serves me, some of those folks found their way to First Baptist Church. At the graveside service, Dr. Hester shared, "Mr. David helped formally integrate Pontotoc City Schools by supporting one of his neighbors, Sam Givhan. Mr. Naugher was at that time on the School Board. Sam told Mr. Naugher that he wanted to be a doctor and that Pontotoc Schools would give him a better education. I understand that Sam did become a doctor and at one time was working at the Mayo Clinic." [Note of 04/18/07: Ken Prewett, a classmate of Sam Givhan commented that Sam received a PhD in Psychology and now resides in Macon, MS.] David Naugher lived an extraordinary life in a largely ordinary way. It’s how he lived that life and the love he showed his family and friends and all with whom he had contact that I shall remember most.
Meeting The Fuosses Down From Pennsylvania The local chapter of Habitat For Humanity continues to provide decent, affordable housing to qualified families. Barbara Carter has served as executive director for Pontotoc County Habitat for the past six years and has been instrumental in obtaining various grants to supplement her salary as well as develop the necessary infrastructure of Circle Of Hope subdivision. Barbara’s prior experience as a housing specialist for South Delta Planning and Development District in Greenville has netted big dividends for our local Habitat affiliate. Through Barbara’s efforts, Pontotoc County Habitat for Humanity secured a VISTA worker, Ryan Fuoss, to assist the local affiliate as its Volunteer Coordinator for one year. VISTA is an acronym for Volunteers In Service To America. Ryan, a graduate of Taylor University in Upland, Indiana, is a native of Chicago. At the end of his VISTA tenure, here, Ryan plans to enroll in law school. He has applied to several prestigious institutions and has received letters of acceptance from three of them as well as an enticing scholarship offer. I’ve done all I can do to steer him toward Ole Miss by explaining that someone of his intellect may do well at an Ivy League institution such as Harvard, but getting a degree from Harvard would simply add his name to the already large pot of Harvard graduates. However, a degree from the law school at Ole Miss, where he’s almost assured of magna cum laude or summa cum laude status, would provide greater prestige. "You could," I stated, "become Ole Miss’ second most famous alumni, right behind John Grisham."
Ryan’s sister, Heidi, and her husband, Eric, came to visit him one weekend last fall. I greeted them as they were heading to the First Day service on Sunday morning, but that was the only chance I had to make them feel welcome in Pontotoc. Heidi has an entrepreneurial spirit and has her own brand of chocolates, aptly named Heidi’s Candies. Presently, all offerings are handmade and include truffles and other chocolate candies. See http://heidiscandies.com for more details and pricing. Last week, Ryan’s mom and dad, who now live in Pennsylvania, arrived in Pontotoc to spend a few days with their son. Ryan’s dad, Jim, even spent Saturday as a volunteer on the worksite for Habitat. Paula, Ryan’s mom, utilized her free time that day shopping the new Wal-Mart Supercenter. "We don’t have a Supercenter," she told Barbara, "I’m excited to get to visit one." Ryan and his parents ate supper at our house, Saturday night. We asked Paula about her visit to Wal-Mart and learned she made two trips there. "They’ve got some really good prices," she shared. "Food is a lot cheaper, here than at home." Be that as it may, I don’t share her enthusiasm for Supercenters. But then, my perspective is colored by my background in independent retail and my desire to see small, independently owned businesses compete with chains. I believe there’s room for both chains and independent retailers to thrive, but chains such as Wal-Mart prefer to steamroll their competition. Getting off my soapbox and back to what supper was all about, I should point out that it was Barbara’s idea to invite the Fuosses for dinner, and I fully approved her plan. Barbara suggested chicken and dressing, knowing our visitors had likely never been exposed to the goodness of cornbread dressing. I liked her idea, as it meant less work for me than say grilling steaks. I didn’t meet Ryan’s parents until Saturday evening, but Barbara had met them earlier in the week. She found out that neither of them knew about the Southern tradition of eating black-eyed peas and hog jowl on New Year's Day. Thus, she had planned to cook a mess of black-eyes until the last minute when she decided upon cooking what we had, purple hull peas. It turns out they’d not heard of them, either. Last fall, I bought a quart jar of home-canned green beans that Judy Mogridge had put up, when Barbara and I attended the Harvest Luncheon sponsored by the Fine Arts Club. At the time, I presumed we’d open it for either Thanksgiving or Christmas, but we didn’t, so we served the green beans, along with the purple hull peas to our guests. I did help with part of the cooking. I prepared a rotisserie chicken. We don’t normally mix chicken meat into the cornbread dressing, which is probably the only time we prefer meat served on the side as a compliment to something else. For our guests, the entrée was chicken and dressing served with mashed potatoes, green beans, purple hull peas, and cranberry sauce. We also had an orange fluff salad. For dessert, Sara Sue brought a two-layer caramel cake. The food was all good and our guests seemed to enjoy what they ate. Jim and I took seconds on the peas, but maybe that’s because we were the only ones eating ours with pickled jalapenos. I had probably the worst case of klutziness, ever, for me at a dining table. Trying to be a good host, I asked everyone to pass their plate to me, so I could serve the cornbread dressing. Attempting to flip the dressing upside down onto the second plate, I spooned it onto the table cloth. In trying to keep orange fluff from touching my vegetables, I managed to get it all over my silverware, my shirt, and my hands. And if that weren’t bad enough, I knocked over my glass of tea while trying to open my RRN 2000 issues and stained not only the tablecloth but several articles in the loose leaf binder. The evening passed quickly, but that’s how evenings pass when one is having fun. I doubt Ryan’s parents will get back down here before his year of service is up, but if they do, we’ll invite them over again, and then we’ll treat them to a mess of catfish and hushpuppies.
Bodock Beau Shoebox Dolls One can only surmise how much truth is contained in the following anecdote, sent our way by Larry Young. Something can be humorous with conveying a truth, but I’ve got a feeling this one is partially true. Shoebox Dolls A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years. They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoebox in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about. For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover. In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoebox and took it to his wife's bedside. She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box. When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money totaling $25,000. He asked her about the contents. "When we were to be married," she said, "my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll." The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two times in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness. "Honey," he said, "that explains the doll, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?"
"Oh," she said, "that's the money I made from selling the dolls." Copyright © 2000 - 2007 RRN Online.
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They’re dying off, you know,
at a rate of more than 1,000 per day, those men and women ascribed by Tom
Brokow as "The Greatest Generation." They were the ones who answered duty’s
call and left the relative safety of the continental U.S. of A. to defend
the cause of freedom around the world. They fought and died in air, on land,
and sea, throughout Europe, North Africa, Japan, the Philippines, the Hawaiian
Islands, and other islands of the South Pacific.
So, far he hasn’t taken me seriously. Personally, I think
it a shame that someone who works mathematical proofs for the fun of it would
want to be a lawyer. Don’t we have enough of those already? What we
need is another mathematical genius on the level of Albert Einstien, or a
physicist on the order of Steven Hawkins. This country needs people who can
sort out the mysteries of the universe, not add to the complexities of our
legal system. If we could keep him in Pontotoc a little longer, I believe
he’d have a shot at greatness.
