Clara Ann Hughes

Clara preferred her nickname, “Jinx,” but also went by “Mom” to six and “Grandma” to 17. Her 37th great grandchild Arthur was born last April; her fourth great-great granddaughter Emery arrived in March. In her final months, nothing sparked her megawatt smile as effectively as those babies.

Death worked slowly and indecisively, which frustrated Jinx and those close to her, a last act unfit for the vibrant and purposeful bulk of her story. She sometimes admonished it to hurry. More often, she expressed gratitude for her family and their boundless love and care. Suffering served a purpose, she was sure. She’d “offer it up.” All questions (including, “why is this taking so long?”) would be answered when she met her Maker.

Anxiously awaiting her Heavenly arrival is her husband Thomas Hughes, with whom she fell in love at age 15 and stayed in perpetuity.

She was born October 28, 1925 to James Arthur and Mary Antoinette (Long) McCue in Sterling, IL, where she and Tom met as teenagers. Both balked at high school dances, so they skipped one and went on a date.

They enjoyed driving around together in Tom’s Lincoln. When the car blew a tire one freezing afternoon, he called her a “Jinx.” By the time Tom left school to join the Marines, the handle had stuck.

“We have been apart for a long time, and I have come a long way,” Tom wrote Jinx in January 1943. “I’ve seen a lot of things and places and am over seven thousand miles from where I started. I have changed my ideas in many ways, but I have never changed toward you.”

A year passed, and Tom took a bullet at Iwo Jima. From the veterans hospital in Chicago, they planned their wedding. On January 5, 1946, they married at 8:30 a.m. (Not naturally an early riser, the young bride must have been eager!)

Jinx became a mom that November. “I’d put him in his crib, then pick him right back up. I wasn’t sure what to do,” she recalled of the first night home with firstborn, Stephen.

Today it’s hard to imagine our matriarch as an anxious new mother. But she was indeed human, a redhead in stylish top coats and pencil skirts, kitten heels and cat-eye sunglasses. She went out dancing, swinging to big brass bands and entertaining friends at home. Her drink of choice was Canadian Club with a soda splash and loads of ice, a highball dubbed The Presbyterian (“a watered-down Catholic,” she quipped.)

Tom, Sally and Mary followed Steve, and later came Mike (not exactly planned), and John, who was. She reasoned that a child needed another to play with, and her first four were growing up. When Steve went to Vietnam, she staved off worry by praying the rosary and staying busy. Her children made meaningful careers in law, medicine, teaching, fighting fires, saving lives and such. More importantly to her, they became fathers and mothers.

Except God, nothing was more important to Jinx than family.

She sent birthday cards without fail and attended baptisms, baby showers, school plays, graduations and Eagle Scout ceremonies, even when it hurt.

At the Hughes Ranch in Kaufman — home to horses, cows and an incidental llama or donkey since 1964 — Jinx presided (and presumably prayed) over legendary family gatherings, death defying horseback rides, lawless football, bonfires, clay-pigeon shoots and late-night frog giggin’ expeditions. Note: All frogs gigged must be eaten, per Grandma.

Jinx’s penchants were on display at her East Dallas home, where she lived independently throughout 2023 — in gardens watched over by a sandstone St. Francis and Blessed Mother; butterfly windchimes; hummingbird feeders; select seashells; a living room “wall of fame” featuring 5x7 portraits of her grandchildren (and their children, etc.); lovingly cared-for mid-century furniture (including a turntable and eclectic vinyl collection of religious hymns and showtunes, Frank Sinatra, Cole Porter, Herb Alpert’s Tijuana Brass and a record called “Down at Morty’s: Song’s for getting together, drinking beer and raising hell.”); Law and Order on her TV; iPad Air charging for midnight Facebook activities; and a fridge covered in magnets from her travels (Hawaii, Ireland, California, Kentucky, Tennessee, Port Aransas, other coastal Texas towns and far-flung destinations too numerous to name).

Her children recall summer vacations to the McCue farm in Sterling where — with her hometown’s slew of aunts, uncles and cousins — they could swim and run and construct scarecrows to pitch in sprawling cornfields.

Though her political and religious convictions ran deep, she was not known to interrupt, argue or crack wise. But when wisecrackers paused for air, she would share her opinion, ask a thought-provoking question. Her humor was ever present, a subtle wit.

After listening to newscasters discuss recent celebrity deaths — Richard Simmons at 76, Shelly Duvall at 76, Phil Donahue at 88 — she said, “Why all these young people are dying and I’m still here, I’ll never understand.”

Through good and bad, her trust in God and devotion to Catholicism remained steadfast. Since making Dallas their home in 1957, the Hugheses were active members of Saint Pius X parish. Jinx cherished the fellowship and friendships found there. She belonged to Catholic Daughters, the Over 55 Club and the St. Bernadette Circle of SPX Ladies Society (“She was the glue holding our fibers together going on 70 years,” the circle hostess said through tears). Until her final day, loving neighbors, friends and parishioners visited her. SPX’s late Msgr. Tom Weinzapfel — a dear friend who attended Tom and Jinx’s 50th anniversary party and officiated Tom’s funeral services — will no doubt be among the throng of souls celebrating Jinx’s Heavenly homecoming.

In addition to beloved Thomas Hughes, Clara Ann is preceded in death by her parents Arthur and Mary and siblings Dorothy, Frank, Art and Marjorie; daughter-in-law Merrilee Hughes and great-granddaughter Grace Upton, as well as countless more relatives and friends.

She is survived by children, Stephen, Sally, Thomas, Mary, Michael and John Hughes; daughters-in-law Sue, Sharon and Tammy Hughes; grandchildren Christina Hughes Babb, Teresa Hughes Thomas, Colleen Hughes Conlon, John Thomas Hughes, Catherine "Katee" Hughes Gebo, Lisa Enzian O’Connor, Jennifer Hughes Hanks, Thomas Robert “Bobby” Hughes, Chad Hughes, Jennifer Jo Hughes Post, Michelle Hughes, Courtney Hughes Fadel, Julie Hughes Yrlas, Shannon Hughes, Josh Hughes, Thomas John “TJ” Hughes and Lauren Hughes Fotheringham; great grandchildren Stephen “Cole” Babb, Lauren (Ethington) Paton-Ash, Morgan Babb, Anna Gebo, John Anthony Hughes, Xander Yrlas, Emma and Alex Thomas, Mackenzie Newell Claire, Britton Hughes, Benjamin Hanks, Peter Gebo, Aiden Yrlas, Liam Hughes, Owen Conlon, Lucas Hanks, Brian O’Connor, Mason Hughes, Lucas Hughes Fadel, Conor Conlon, Thomas Dane Hughes, Jacob Hanks, Delilah Hughes Fadel, Jackson Hughes, Genevive O’Connor, Lincoln Fotheringham, Dylan Post, Norah Hughes, Grayson Hughes, Carson Hughes, Rosemarie Hughes, Beckham Fotheringham, Brigid Clare Hughes Fadel, Logan Hughes, Lillianne Hughes, Harper Post; Kaden Thomas Hughes, and Arthur Yrlas; great-great grandchildren Isabelle Babb, Adalaide and Avery Hughes and Emery Babb; all of her grandchildren and great grandchildren’s spouses, who she loved like her own and too many more relatives and friends to name.

A rosary at 10 a.m. will precede a 10:30 a.m. funeral mass at St. Pius X Catholic Church on Friday, September 13. A reception and opportunity to share memories will follow.