John D. Wood
May 27, 1944
John D. Wood was born on June 21, 1940 in Lubbock County, Texas south of Woodrow. He was the second child of L.D. and Inez Wood's who was born at home. He was also the last child of theirs to be born at home. I remember one summer when he and his family came to visit us in Texas and one of his sons asked Mother, "Was Dad really born on the kitchen table? He said he was, but I don't know whether to believe him." Mother nearly threw a conniption fit! "Why your daddy was NOT born on the kitchen table! He was born at home, in bed, like all the babies were back then! What a ridiculous notion, that he was born on the kitchen table. John D.! What HAVE you been telling these kids anyway?" This story, in itself, describes a lot about John. He loved to cut up, tease, joke, and have fun. He could tell you a story with a completely straight face and if you didn't see the twinkle in those pretty blue eyes of his, you'd believe him. He was much like Daddy in that regard. The twinkle in their blue eyes gave both of them away every time.
I don't have many details on John's birth except that he wasn't born on the kitchen table and Mother said he was her easiest birth and one of her easiest babies. (Judy being the other easy baby.) Mother always said that John was the happiest baby she ever knew. He was plump, happy, and easy to please, always smiling and cooing. She was quite disappointed to realize, when she was going to dress him in the little baby gowns she had made before his birth, that he wasn't going to be able to wear a single one. His little hands were too wide! She said she couldn't even get his little hands in the top of the sleeves, much less the bottom so she had to buy him some little Carter's gowns that had more stretch in them. John's hands were like Mother's. She wasn't a large woman, but had wide, bigger hands than the rest of her. John's hands, if you will notice in the picture of him at four years of age above, were always stout. (Stout was Mother's word for it.) I looked all over for a baby picture of John, but this was the youngest photo I could find of him, I'm sorry to say.
While a happy baby, Mother and Daddy soon came to realize as little John grew into toddlerhood, that he was a little bit stubborn. A story I heard repeatedly over the years was how, when John was about three, he decided he didn't want to eat what was for supper. Daddy told him to eat his supper and John said, "No! I don't want to eat my supper!" Daddy told him to eat and again, same response. Daddy swatted him on his backside and told him again he to eat his supper. Again, "No! I don't want to eat my supper and you can't make me!" Daddy said, "Well, you're not getting up from this table until you eat, so you may as well eat!" Daddy and John had a sitting standoff for quite a while and then Daddy went to the living room to read. He came back after about an hour and John was still sitting at the table, bottom lip stuck out, arms crossed, legs crossed, and he hadn't eaten a single bite. So Daddy said, "Well, then, you're going to bed without supper," and picked John up, put him in his bed and left him. After about another hour, Mother went in to check on John. Crocodile tears were dripping down his little face. Mother said, "John, why wouldn't you eat when your daddy told you to eat?" John whispered in a trembly voice, "Mother, I will eat my supper! I'm sorry!" He wouldn't say it to Daddy, but he would say it to Mother. So Mother took in the kitchen and made up a plate for him and he ate his supper. Not another word was said that night by Daddy. As John grew up, there were frequent repeats of varying versions of this scenario. Daddy would tell John to do something, John would refuse, and wills would be at war. One of the funniest stories Daddy told about John took place when John was about 10 or 12. Daddy came around the end of the barn and saw smoke coming up from behind a haystack. Daddy tiptoed until he was right behind John, who was smoking a stolen cigarette. Daddy said, "Hey!" really loud and clapped his hands. He startled John so bad, John wet all over himself, threw down the cigarette in the hay, and jumped a foot! Daddy was laughing so hard he couldn't even discipline John beyond the initial startle. Nonethless, John didn't become a regular smoker until he was in his later teens. Another funny story that Daddy and Mother liked to tell dealt with John's career as a football player for the Cooper Pirates. John was a defensive player (I never remember the names of the specific positions, so you'll have to forgive my ineptitude here.) John wasn't very tall, but he was stout and muscular so he did a pretty good job. One night during one of the last plays of the game, John somehow ended up with the ball. He turned around and started running when he was faced with a wall of much bigger players from the other team. Did that deter him? Not at all! He just ran under the legs of one of their bigger players and kept right on running! Daddy said everyone was laughing so hard and was so excited about John's play that it took five minutes for them to pick up the game again.
John was a contradiction in terms. He was stubborn, loved to fight, and was all boy as they say, but he was also very tenderhearted and protective. Judy remembers fondly when John would protect and defend her, his baby sister. They rode the bus to school every day and apparently one year there was a bus driver who liked to pat the little girls bottoms as they got off the bus. Judy got her bottom patted a couple of times and told John about it. The next day John had words with the bus driver along the lines of, "You ever touch my baby sister or any other little girl on this bus again and I'll beat the hell out of you!" Since John's reputation as a fighter was well known, that was the end of the problem. If anyone bothered Judy, John defended and protected her until the day he left home.
Joe & John Wood, Fall 1952
I guess everyone in the family knows that when John became a teenager, he became very rebellious and he and Daddy really butted heads and wills then. He ran away from home several times and drove Mother and Daddy crazy with worry. By that time, the family was living out between Lovington and Tatum, NM. John would run away, hitch a ride to Lubbock, and end up at Grandpa Gill's house, where Grandpa would let John and Uncle Gaylon pretty much get away with everything. There was drinking, carousing (Mother's words for seeing "wild" girls), and pretty much everything else in between. Since Mother and Daddy didn't have a telephone at their house, there was no way to call Grandma and Grandpa Gill to see if John was actually there, so Daddy would have to drive the 100 miles to Lubbock to find John and bring him back home. This went on several times and Daddy left John there for a while a couple of times. He was tired of going to get him. The last time I guess was the worst, because when Daddy got John home, he beat him, literally, with a belt. He beat him so bad, John's back was starting to get bloodied up and Mother made Daddy stop. Soon after John announced that he was going to join the Navy if Daddy would sign him in. John was only 17 and didn't think Daddy would actually agree, but by this time Daddy was completely fed up and at his wit's end. So he told John he would be happy to sign him in and took him straight to the recruiting office. John went for the physical exam and was sent back home. He was pleased to tell Dad that they wouldn't take him because he had an ingrown toenail. Dad called the recruiter, found out that as soon as the toe was healed, they'd take John right in. After John's toe healed, away he was sent to the Navy. As one can imagine, there were probably some hard feelings on both sides with John and Daddy for a while, but they seemed to overcome these over the years.
John married Dixie DeJong on June 11, 1960 and they had their first son, Curtis D., on February 12, 1961. A few years later came Deanna Marlene on February 19, 1963 and then Raymond Joseph on July 30, 1968. After getting out of the Navy, John settled in the Los Angeles area and was an ace mechanic, welder, and machinist. He, like Daddy, was a mechanical genius and could fix or work on anything. He owned some businesses along the way, if I remember correctly.
John was gone, married, and had his first son before I was ever born. I saw him several times as I was growing up, but didn't know him really well until I grew up. I still remember with delight the time he told me he was "the poor woman's Clark Gable" with a twinkle in his eye that had me laughing. He was always sweet and good to me, but like a distant uncle in many ways. When he came home for Mother and Daddy's 50th wedding anniversary party in June 1982, I got to know him some better. Sadly, when I came to know him best was on his last visit home in June of 1986 just about six weeks before he passed away. He had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer the December before and had undergone extensive surgery in an attempt to remove all the cancer. He was in the hospital for ages to recover and Daddy called him every day to check on him. Mother had a heart attack on May 27, 1986 and nearly died. Joe, Judy and I discussed it and thought John should come out to see Mother, just in case, and so John came home. He and Mother were so glad to see each other and his arrival helped immensely in her recovery. He visited with Joe at Joe's home for several days and that was a healing time for them too. John said his cancer was gone and he was fine, fine, not to worry. I was going to do laundry for Daddy one day and asked John if he had anything he needed me to wash. He gathered a few things and then went to take off the shirt he was wearing to include in the wash. As I looked at his scarred up, emaciated body, the truth hit me hard. I looked up at John and said, "You're not really better, are you, John?" "Goddammit! No, baby sister, I'm not. I'm not going to make it, which is why I wanted to come out here so bad. To see everybody one last time and say goodbye. Don't you DARE tell anyone, though, ok? I don't want everybody feeling all sorry for me and shit like that. I wanted to see everybody and make sure Mother was going to be ok. I want to hug everybody's neck, tell them I love them, and go home. Can you keep that a secret for me?" I sobbed, but pulled it together because Dad was coming down the hall toward us. "Yeah, I'll keep your secret, but dammit! I was just getting to know you," I whispered. I didn't tell anyone, especially Mother and Daddy. I keep my secrets.
John went home, Mother had open heart surgery and was recovering, John gave his daughter Deanna away in marriage. John went back in the hospital and Daddy resumed calling him every day. He loved his son deeply and it broke his heart when he learned John wasn't going to make it. On August 24, 1986 we got the call that John had passed away. We all gathered in at Mother and Daddy's. We were all heartbroken, but I think Daddy and Joe were the most heartbroken. Both broke down and cried, which was not the norm for these tough Wood men. Daddy and Joe went to the funeral in California. I stayed home to take care of Mother and my babies.
After Mother passed away, Daddy and I had a lot of time to talk about everything and everyone. I heard stories I had never heard before and heard Daddy's stories. We talked about John one day. We talked about the trouble John gave him as a teenager and I asked him about the beating he gave John. Daddy openly wept. "I never should have been so rough on that kid. I loved him and was at my wit's end, but that day I was just angry, really, really angry and I went too far. I always thought I would get a chance to tell him how very sorry I was for that, but I never did. Or I never took the chance. If only I had known I would never see him again, I would have told him when he came home. You know what he did when he left? He wouldn't even let me carry his suitcase for him! He said, 'Old man, I'll carry my old suitcase...heh, heh, heh.' Then he stuck out his hand and we shook hands and said goodbye. I didn't even hug him and tell him how much I loved him! What the hell was wrong with us anyway? Stupid male pride! I never talked to either of my boys enough and I regret it so much. I just hope they know how much I truly loved them and how proud I was of them." I, too, hope John knew how many regrets Daddy had and how much he loved John. I think they both know now. In heaven all wounds are healed and regrets forgiven...
