Notes for Mary Jo Jackson:
General Notes:
Mary " Jo" Martin was born 30 Sep 1931 in Stokes Co.,North Carolina, to Joseph D. and Della Mae Inman Jackson. When she was just an infant, her parents lived in a small community near Walnut Cove, North Carolina. Her mother had to get water to wash the clothes from a nearby spring. Then she would boil the clothes in a black iron pot that hung over a fire in the yard. One day she left her baby, Jo, just long enough to get some rinse water from the spring. When she returned to the house and walked in, a stranger was standing over the baby's crib getting ready to pick the child up. Della found that he and his former pregnant wife had lived in this house prior to their separation. He had returned, thinking the child was his baby and told Della he had planned to take the child, had she not walked in when she did. Wonder just how different Jo's life would have been without the love of her mom and dad. I am Jo, and everyday of my life I have thanked God for the two parents I had. I feel that who I am and how I think and reason about life is due to the love and nurturing care I received as I was growing up. We were not rich with money, but very rich in love and the things that mattered. We always had plenty of food, good shelter, warm clothing, and lots of work to keep us busy. We had special events in our lives that to this day are sweet memories. Once, the "real" Santa Claus came to see me on Christmas Eve, bringing a doll, a highchair for the doll and a tricycle. I was told to open the door when the knock came. When I did, this huge big Santa reached down, swooped me up and sat me on his lap. While he was asking if I had been a good little girl, I was wetting him in real Christmas terror. He quickly handed me to my Mom and said he assumed I had been a good little girl, and gave me my toys. Some years later, when I was 16 years old, I visited a friend in that community and while at church on Sunday morning, a gentleman came up to me and asked if I was Joe Jackson's oldest daughter. I told him I was and he asked if I remembered my visit from Santa. Needless to say, my face was red with the memories.
I began school at Sandy Ridge, North Carolina, moving from there to Lawsonville School in Stokes Co., from there to Germanton, North Carolina, on to Winston-Salem,North Carolina, to Westfield School in Surry Co.,North Carolina, and finally to Nancy Reynolds School in Stokes, North Carolina. All of this moving around during school years was due to my dad's job with the North Carolina State Highway Department. My parents bought a farm when I was a freshman in high school. The farm house was quite a comedown from other places we had lived so it was some time before I felt comfortable in this new home. It was a log house, cool in the summer and also cool in the winter. It was heated by wood stoves. I remember my mom heating black irons on the stove, wrapping them in towels and placing them at the foot of the bed in the winter time so my sister and I could warm our cold feet.
Life on the farm in the late 40's was hard. Water had to be wound from a well. There was no indoor plumbing which meant I normally did not drink a lot before retiring at night. Food for the table was raised in the gardens and my Mom canned what was eaten in the winter months along with the cured hams, other pork and occasionally some beef that a peddler would bring by. The only food items bought at a store were flour, cornmeal, sugar, salt, pepper and lots of Karo syrup. My sister ,my Dad and I loved mom's big hot biscuits with butter and Karo syrup. I never enjoyed farm life. Probably because at the time my Dad begin farming I had just realized I was a girl and was concerned about how I looked. It was very difficult to feel feminine after milking a cow before going to school in the mornings. I could never get the smell of warm milk from my hands. While in high school I had a job in the school office and also helped some of the teachers in their homes with baby sitting, ironing clothes, etc. to make some spending money. These were the days before "allowances" for children. (If someone had asked my Dad about giving my sister and me an allowance, he would have assured them he was "allowing" us to live in a warm house and have all we wanted to eat). A lot of the money I made on my odd jobs was spent for "Evening in Paris" cologne or some other equally cheap, smelly scent to try and remove the odors of farm life. I always felt there was more to do in the world than milk cows, hoe weeds from tobacco and corn and sweat profusely while picking green beans. I totally loved and adored Frank Sinatra. I loved listening to the "The Hit Parade" on Saturday nights on the radio. When my grandfather visited on a Saturday night, we listened to the "Grand Ole Opry." According to him, listening to songs like they sang on The Hit Parade was about as sinful as wearing shorts.
I was a cheerleader in school and this gave me the opportunity to get away from the community at times and see how others lived. Especially when the school teams played at tournaments in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. At these events, I met "city girls" and marveled at their poise, self-assurance and maturity. As there was no money for college when I graduated from high school I moved to Winston-Salem, North Carolina, and entered Draughon's Business School. The president of the school went with me to First Union Bank and introduced me to Clyde Barber. Mr. Barber said he had never loaned money to a country girl that did not pay him back, so just based on the fact that I came from a farm, he loaned me enough money to pay for tuition, books, etc. I then moved in with a police detective and his wife, telling them I knew how to cook and promised to have dinner ready for them and the house clean when they came in from work each day. The house cleaning was not a problem for me, but I really did not know how to boil water, as I had helped my Dad in the fields and had not done a lot of cooking, while at home. Evidently what I cooked was better than they had been used to because there were no complaints. I eventually got a job at the YWCA, giving me enough money for school supplies and a free meal each day so I moved from the detective's home into a boarding house. This was great as I met so many women from assorted areas of life. There were school teachers, office workers, accountants, one girl worked for a textile company. They taught the country girl many things. Of course in those days, one had to know how to play Canasta. I also learned how to dress, how to wear make-up and do a lot of things that my parents and grandparents probably thought were works of the devil. I also worked at grocery stores on Saturdays, dressed like Scarlett O'Hara, handing out Lemon Thin cookies (FFV company sponsored). For this embarrassing little job I received $12.00 per day. This was actually good money in those days. After graduating from the business school I worked as a junior accountant for a paper company for a while and then went to work as a data analyst for Western Electric. It was there that I met my husband, Paul. We met in January of 1954 and on April 30 of that year we were married. We had two dear children, and moved into a home we had built in Dav-Bow Park in Pfafftown,North Carolina, in 1959. We lived there until Dec of 1993.
After the children were born, I stopped working at Western Electric and stayed at home until they began elementary school. One of my neighbors, Marjorie Nifong, a teacher at Northwest Junior High School, told me about an opening for a secretary at her school. I applied for the job and began work there in 1964. About a year later the funds for that position were cut, but at the same time, I heard of an opening at North Forsyth Senior High School. I applied for the job, was interviewed by Julian Gibson, the principal, and hired. This was the most wonderful working experience one could have in that I loved the work, loved the children "young adults", and the school staff became an extended family. All of us who worked at North Forsyth during those years have remained friends and stay in contact with each other. Opal Allen, was the bookkeeper/secretary at North and she taught me the ropes, so to speak. She and I got along very well, both of us had been born in Stokes Co.,North Carolina, and so we used that as a yardstick with which to measure the deeds of others ie -" would it have been done that way in Stokes Co". We worked hard, laughed much and everyone respected the rights of others. Such a different work atmosphere than what I hear about in today's world. Opal and I worked together for so long and knew each other so well that we could actually communicate across the office with our eyes, never having to speak a word.
Paul and I had been brought up in the Baptist faith and so after our marriage we began attending church at Macedonia Baptist Church in Tobaccoville, North Carolina. This was the church Paul had attended as he grew up. We both became active in the church.
In June of 1961, First Baptist Church of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, conducted a religious census under the direction of Rev. Ronald Rice and Rev. Bob Williams. This was to determine the feasibility of establishing a Baptist Church in the Old Richmond, Dav-Bow Park and Lake Hills communities, ten miles northwest of Winston-Salem, North Carolina , and in the area of our home. A survey in the community was taken and many of the people who were approached expressed enthusiasm for a new church, feeling the need for one in such a rapidly growing community. Meeting at Old Town School on June 27, 1961 with Rev. Ronald Rice, a committee was chosen to represent the community in working with the Pilot Mountain Baptist Association in starting a mission. This committee was composed of Folger Carlton, Grant Jeffries, Othel Wagoner and Jo Martin. On July 24, 1961, a meeting was held at our home with the local committee in attendance, along with representatives from First Baptist Church of Winston-Salem and the Missions Committee of the Pilot Mountain Assoc. Rev. Lewis E. Ludlum, Associational Missionary and Rev. Ronald Rice, Missions Pastor of First Baptist Church, presented a proposal to purchase four and one half acres of land on Highway 65 at Highway 67 for the sum of $12,000. This would be payable over a period of four years, as a cooperative venture of the Pilot Mountain Association, First Baptist Church and the people of the community. A meeting was held with interested members of the community at the Old Richmond Firehouse on Oct 18, 1961 and a vote was taken and passed to accept this assistance. Rev. Ronald Rice delivered our first sermon at this meeting. I can clearly remember telling him that I looked forward to the day when we would eventually have a church and a place for our hymnals to stay put. His comment to me was "there will come a time in your life when these days of working to have a new church in the community, will be a time that you look back on with great joy." He was so right! The following day the Old Richmond Grange was made available for our use and regular services began at 11 A.M. Sunday, October 22, 1961 with Ronald Rice as our pastor. Sunday School with Paul Stewart as Superintendent was organized and officers chosen for all departments. Initial members of the mission, designated at this time as "Elkin Highway Chapel" were: Ginger Dawn Jeffries, Grant and Eva Jeffries, Paul and Jo Martin, Clifford and Mildred Rhyne, Kate and Othel Wagoner. The following week five more names were added: Frances and Paul Stewart, Steve Stewart, Mr. and Mrs. R. A. Truitt.
In a business session on March 28, 1962, we voted unanimously to assume the name Immanuel (God with us) Baptist Chapel. Thereafter meetings were held in the Old Richmond Grange Hall, Old Richmond School and in our home. In September 1962 a new home on Highway 65, near the church lot, was purchased to serve as the place of worship until a church building could be constructed. The basement of the house served as the worship area, with upstairs rooms being used for Sunday School classes and nursery.
With First Baptist Church of Winston-Salem providing assistance and generous financial support, Immanuel Baptist Chapel was able to proceed rapidly in 1965 with the building program. Ground breaking ceremonies were held on February 21, and construction began immediately with Howard Kiger, Contractor. In 1965 eighteen new members joined our church, and in 1966 twenty new members joined.
In a business session in November of 1975 the chapel voted to become a constituted autonomous church in March of 1976. Since there was already a church named Immanuel in the near vicinity, it was decided a name change was in order, and the members voted to assume the name Pfafftown Baptist Church.
Paul retired from Western Electric Co in 1982 after being with the company for thirty-five years. I took early retirement from the Winston-Salem/Forsyth Co School System in 1984 and we began to travel. We have covered all the fifty states with exception of Alaska and have visited all Canadian Provinces. At first we traveled on bus tours and although most were enjoyable, we decided to do our "own thing" and began planning our trips with the help of AAA maps. We found this to be most relaxing and pleasant, packing the trunk of the car, leaving home with no schedule, rhyme or reason. We have made some wonderful memories through the years, such as sitting quietly by the side of a lake in Yellowstone Park, very early in the morning, watching large elk cross the road in front of us, stopping on their way to give us a look. In 1999 we were on a trip back home from western states and were about twenty-five miles east of Nashville, TN when an eighteen-wheeler hit us twice. Most wrecks happen so quickly one can hardly recall what happened, but this one went on and on and on. We spun and turned and hit the guardrail twice. Finally we ceased movement and were so thankful to find we were alive and able to walk and talk. After being treated at local hospital we discovered we had only sustained broken and separated ribs. God must really have had something in mind for us to finish.
God has been exceedingly good to me during my life. He gave me great parents, and very loving grandparents. He brought a wonderful, loving and caring husband into my life and blessed me with two lovely, healthy and strong children. I thank Him every day. It is because of my family research that I have written this brief story of my life. I hope I have not lived in vain. I hope that along the way, I have had some impact on others that proved a blessing for them. Hopefully one hundred years from now, someone will enjoy reading about me and the fact that I did live, love and laugh a lot.
Update: In October of 2005, I made a decision to sell our home in Wilmington,North Carolina, and move to Boise, ID. Paul's declining health was the reason. He had Alzheimer disease and although I had cared for him at home for five years, he was becoming more and more difficult to take care of by myself. Our son lived in Boise and I knew he would be a great help to me at this time of my life. After the move, Paul's health continued to decline and sadly he passed away in July of 2006.
Update: (2008) Boise has become my home now. I am member of Amity United Methodist Church and am very active in church programs. Both my children are located here (as of 2007) and it is true, your home is where your heart is. I have a lovely, five-year old great-granddaughter who is teaching me new and exciting things every day. I look forward to watching her mature into a lovely young lady.
During the years after my retirement, I had become quite involved with genealogical research. I located many of our ancestors in my search, doing it the "old fashioned way" by visiting courthouses, cemeteries and libraries, and writing lots and lots of letters, but age was making this a tiring method so, in 1998 I purchased a computer and hopefully I can continue the pursuit of our heritage at an easier pace.