John Thomas Stell
Dear Cousins,Another in the series of character sketches by Nancy Rebecka Stell, daughter of Robert Hamilton and Malissa Johnson Stell, grand daughter of Thomas Jones Stell. For all practical purposes, Nancy Rebecka was the only mother John Thomas ever knew. He was the last of our line. I inherited this manuscript when John Thomas' widow, Aunt Pauline, died in 2000.
Mary Deborah McBurnett Bynum Great grand daughter of Georgia Rebecka Stell
John Thomas Stell
John Thomas Stell, a sixth descendant of the Colonial John Stell (Still) of North Carolina, and son of John Milton Stell and Mary Griggs Stell, was born at Terryville, DeWitt County, Texas, September 21, 1902. Married Pauline Marie Thomas, Gainesville, Texas, 1936. Shortly after his first birthday, his mother passed on, leaving him to the care of his young sisters and his father, who moved with his children to Cuero, Texas. John Thomas was born a beautiful baby, perfectly formed, big brown eyes, ruddy complexion, and a shock of golden brown curls. His grandmother Stell said of him,"He hasn't a blemish." Gifted with a winning personality, a quality which increased with time, and which ever insured him a welcome from his youthful playmates on to associates of his maturer years. The home circle and all who knew him loved little John Thomas, who by the way, answered to a number of aliases. To his father and most of the elder relatives, he was John Thomas - to his sisters he was "little brother" - to his schoolmates and acquaintances of that era he was Tommy or Tom. To his foster mother he was Sonny Boy, Brother and Son, in later years he became known as Jack Stell. Noted for his industry and affectionate disposition, even as a small boy he never shirked his home duties and was ever loving and kind to his aged grandmother. His Aunt, who lived with them and worked up town, often on returning at evening, would be met by him and his little sisters, their hands filled with wild flowers which they had gathered by the wayside for her, and to her they were far more precious than a gorgeous hot house spray given by another. Her most priceless keepsakes are Sonny boy's simple childhood gifts combined with those of his after years. His childhood was that of the average boy whom Whittier immortalized in the following beautiful verse -
Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy with cheeks of tan,
With thy turned-up pantaloons
And thy merry whistling tunes,
From my heart I give thee joy,
I was once a barefoot boy.
Fond of fishing and hunting, he would take his father's gun and Luke, the prize dog to the nearby pasture, where he would fish and swim in the stock tank and gravel pits, returning home with a catch of fish and any game he had bagged. Song and laughter were a natural part of him, aided and abetted by his sisters, his father was the chief target for his practical jokes. In due time, he entered John C. French public school, Cuero, Texas, where he stood well with his teachers. Like most boys he was an enthusiastic ball player, and being a left handed pitcher, was much in demand on the ball team. In local write-ups of some of the hard won games, Tommy Stell's name was listed among those who put it over. A favorite of the fair sex, his teenage love affairs were many, which like all thistle down experiences at that milestone of life soon blew over. In 1917, shortly before World War first was declared, a couple of John Thomas' pals enlisted in the U.S. Navy. that and the usual propaganda accompanying the war, sent his desire for adventure soaring. Although two years younger than those boys, he measured up to them in size. Also recruiting officers were, you might say, practically snatching infants from their cradles, so John Thomas easily succeeded in volunteer enlistment, was ordered to the Great Lakes camp for three month's training. While there an epidemic of influenza and meningitis swept the camp, sending many of the boys home in their coffins, but missed him. Next he was sent to the East Coast for further training; then he and twenty-four other boys out of a group of more than one hundred, were selected as physically fit for sea duty, assigned to a convoy ship, and during that eighteen month's service he passed through experiences that a full grown man would have quailed before. In the meantime his Aunt received a letter from his Commander in the Navy, never having been granted a furlough of sufficient length to visit home. About nine months after the close of the war, his father's failing health required his presence at home. The Navy gave him an honorable discharge, and the boy who had been away for long, long months, returned to all appearances a man. Securing employment with an engineering company, he soon qualified as a steam shovel operator. In time worked up to a contractor and ran his own dragline, built highways in Texas and other states. Then came World War, the second, and in 1943 he again volunteered, choosing the Seabees, serving first in the Atlantic Zone, then transferred to the Pacific, where amidst the devastation and unearthly din of bursting bombs, he unfalteringly carried on through the bloody muck of Okinawa Iwojima. On receiving an honorable discharge from the service he returned to Gainesville, Texas, to his wife who had courageously kept the home fires burning. He, like thousands of other G.I.'s, will wear the brand of war throughout life, but his characteristic grit has pulled him back to normalcy, and at present, in addition to stock-raising, he's servicing construction machinery for the Martin Machinery Company of Dallas, Texas. It's true that in the hey day of his youth, he like the majority of red-blooded men in his zest for daring, occasionally strayed near the fields which straight-laced moralists class as "wild oats", yet, I, who was closer to him than any other, except possibly his real mother had she lived, never lost faith in his ability to weather the storm, a faith I've lived to see verified. Having made his way up on his own resources, he stands today as an upright moral citizen whom any father or mother may justifiably be proud to call, My Son.
Nan Stell
postscript: John Thomas departed this earth May 13, 1984, in Gainesville, Texas.