John R. Mobley was my father. He was always called Jack. He was the 7th of 8 children, born to Wylie Wade and Nina Tindall Mobley in 1925 in Douglas, Georgia. His siblings were my Uncles Lowell, George, and Harvey, and my Aunts Bill, Thelma, Edna and Nina. Clyde died in infancy.

Daddy was in the Army stationed at Scofield Barracks on the day Pearl Harbor was attacked. I can only imagine how everyone involved must have felt, being awakened to the explosions from the bombs dropped by the Japanese planes screaming overhead. As I grew up and learned about Pearl Harbor in school, I also discovered Daddy had been there and lived it. I didn't realize it at the time, but whenever I would ask him about it, he would just give a brief, casual answer and change the subject. I was a child then, and didn't learn until later that he almost never spoke of it. I don't know how long he remained in Hawaii after the attack, but there are still some letters from before then that he wrote home to my Granny. In one of them, he wrote that he and some friends had been to a club and he had really enjoyed the singer performing that night. He wrote " I think you'll be hearing about this guy one day, his name is Frank Sinatra". He was sure right about that!

After leaving Hawaii, Daddy was sent to Miami and honorably discharged from his military service. At that time, Miami was full of sailors and soldiers, and the public transportation was pretty overwhelmed. People were encouraged to offer rides to military folks, and one day my Mom (Ida) and her sister gave a ride to a couple of good looking young men. Of course they all introduced themselves, asked where each other was from, and come to find out Mom and Daddy had once lived in the same TINY town in south Georgia called Mystic. They didn't know each other back then, but after they were married, they discovered that my Granny Mobley had been my Mom's Sunbeam teacher at church when she was a little girl! Such a small world.

They married in 1945 and settled in Miami. Several of Mom's brothers and sisters had also moved there from Georgia. Mom was a hairdresser at a salon on Miami Beach, and Daddy worked for Maul Construction. He got knocked off a cement mixer truck when the high pressure water hose got loose, and the fall broke his back. Back surgery in those days was iffy at best, and he had a long and difficult recovery. Eventually he was able to enter vocational education to learn a new trade, and he and Mom decided he would go to beauty school and they would open their own salon. During this time, after 10 years, they got a surprise--me! I was born in Ocala, FL, near Daddy's family in Belleview just south of there, and named Jill. (They always claimed that name had nothing to do with Daddy being named Jack, but I love it regardless). We moved to Gainesville and they opened a shop, which was very successful. In 1959, the Space Program was just beginning in Cape Canaveral, FL, and my parents best friends from Miami had moved there. Terry was also a hairdresser and had opened a shop, and they encouraged Mom and Daddy to open a second shop in that area also. So, Mom and I moved to Cocoa Beach, then to Cocoa, and opened a shop. Daddy worked in Gainesville during the week, and in Cocoa on the weekends. But unfortunately, that didn't last, and after 15 years of marriage they divorced. Mom and I stayed in Brevard County, where I grew up and have lived since then, except for my own time in the Air Force. In the meantime, Daddy remained in Gainesville and got remarried and had my 2 brothers, Scott and Brett. Their Mom, my stepmom, is Patty. I am very fortunate that my parents remained close friends always, and that I am very close to Scott and Brett and Patty. Back to Daddy, he continued with the shop until suffering a heart attack at the age of 48, after which he wasn't able to work any longer. As most men of his generation, he smoked and drank all his life and so his overall health was not great. I also think that Daddy suffered from depression always, though things like that weren't really talked about then. I do believe that Pearl Harbor did something to him that he carried with him the rest of his life, though he almost never spoke of it. He died of heart failure at 53. I have always felt that he was not meant to get old, but rather to stay young and handsome and charming in our hearts forever.

John R Mobley