Mr. John Robert Peppers

John Robert was born May 19, 1930 to Nannie and Raleigh Peppers in McMinnville, Tennessee. The last of four children, he was, in his own words, “the caboose.” For 86 years, he went by the moniker “Dick,” honoring the eccentric naming-tradition of his Southern roots.

Legend has it that one day a chubby boy exchanged glances with a skinny girl in a dirty little dress, sparks flew, and generations of Peppers followed. In reality, Dick and Sarah fell in love as teenagers at Bernard High School. He played football and she cheered him on.

On April 2, 1951, the sweethearts got married. A year later, Dick, along with his bride, made the wise decision to join the Great Migration of blacks moving to the North for better opportunities. Their destination was Cleveland, Ohio. On Buckeye Road, the couple formed lifelong friendships. For Dick, homesickness was brief. With other Southerners, he continued a raucous youth of playing cards, telling tall-tales, and drinking.

By 1960, Dick had grown more mature. He moved his family to the Glenville area where he built his sturdy castle and called himself “King Dick.” A brood of six sons tested his patience day and night. They will be the first to tell you that Dick’s bone-chilling yell was worse than a knock upside the head or a slap on the bottom. Yet, the man could be very affectionate. It wasn’t uncommon of him to rough up a kid’s hair, calling him a “Fathead” or (his own curious invention) a “Fook-a-lookus.”

Dick devoted nearly four decades of his life to Alcoa, mostly as a furnace tender. Whenever the company’s anthem “We Can’t Wait for Tomorrow” played during NFL intermissions, Dick would smile broadly. Family and friends alike gave him a good ribbing about it. That wasn’t just a jingle to him; Dick really couldn’t wait for tomorrow. His work ethic was superior. Without the buzz of an alarm clock, without a single complaint, he got up early every morning and earned a living for his family. His sons will never forget his gritty work-clothes hanging over the vise of his workbench, how they smelled strongly of sweat and the Beechnut gum that he always carried.

Dick certainly had the robust appetite of a royal. In the evenings, you could find the King at the head of his kitchen table, hovering over his favorite meal: fried catfish or perch, hot water cornbread, and a garden salad heavy on the onions. Only Dick’s bone-crunching jaws could rival his yell. His pleasure in food resounded all over his castle.

Although Dick retired from Alcoa in 1989, he still kept himself busy. With help from Do-It-Yourself books and TV shows like Bob Villa’s This Old House, he took up home repair as a hobby. Filling a garage with the latest tools and machinery, he became an expert at plumbing. Eventually, Dick made handyman service into a lucrative little business. He wore his tool belt the way a cowboy his holster. If a drain needed snaking, it was him you called; if a hot water tank needed firing up, it was him you called. Dick passed his knowledge on to several sons and their friends. Quite a few men in the neighborhood are thankful that he steered them towards an honest, legitimate hustle.

Like every hard-working man, Dick enjoyed a respite. He rooted for gunslingers of the Old West on his big-screen TV. In his basement barroom, he sang along with famous musicians. BB King, Fats Domino, and Whitney Houston were among his tight buddies. At his most mellow, Dick would murmur the lyrics to Bobby Blue Bland’s “We’ve had a Good Time,” regardless of getting them wrong.

Not only was Dick a great king but also a fierce warrior. In later years, his body came under repeated assault—a blown knee, an embolism, a heart attack and prostate cancer—yet he endured. In fact, he grew into something of a philosopher. Leaning back in his plush lounger, he would break down the workings of the world for his queen. “In other words” was Dick’s constant refrain.

On the afternoon of Sunday, March 26, 2017, King Dick’s reign ended. Surrounded by loving family, he lost his battle with cancer. Having accepted Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior, Dick went peacefully into the next realm.

Left to cherish his memory are the following: his wife of 65 years, Sarah Elizabeth (nee Spencer); six sons: Robert E.; Carl M.; Kevin D. (Bridget); Kenneth W. (Rose); Brian L. (Diane); Rodney C.; his eight grandchildren: Idris; Karim; Jonathan; Christopher Morgan; Karriem Morgan; Keshia Daniel; Kevin Daniel; Brianna Thornton (Jason); his great-grandchild Jason, Jr.; and a host of other relatives and friends.