Jay M. Morgan

Jay M Morgan

August 29, 1946 - December 12, 2013

Obituary

Biography

The best husband and father, Jay Morgan, of Henderson, passed December 12, 2013. He was 67 years old. He was a Vietnam Vet, a surveyor and a weldor. He is survived by his wife of 48 years, Mary, two daughters, Teresa (Mark) Bayne, Samantha (Jason) Cooper, one son Jay Morgan Jr., his much loved granddaughter Emily Cooper,(he believed the sun rose and set on her) 3 nieces, Laura Ogier, Sutton Jost, and April Vaskin, nephews, Joe Hanley, Hannibal Hanley, Danny Hanley, his favorite nephew Pat Hanley, and his in laws Pat and Linda Hanley. He also leaves many, young people who loved and respected him as if they were his.

Jay could build or fix anything, from repairing a musical Rudolph for his granddaughter to building oil drilling rigs, merry go rounds, tea cup rides, play houses, go carts automatic horse feeders trap throwers, and dune buggies to building two different houses for his family. He built brick planters for the yard, he made a large replica of a small sleigh and made it into a float for a Christmas parade and built a dozen barbecue grills for the Girl Scout Camp in Bethel Acres Oklahoma and a telescoping Martin house for a neighbor and good friend. Jay even rigged up a kiddie pool as a sled so he could pull the kids up and down the road in the snow. He built barbecue pits and wood burning stoves for friends if they wanted one. He was the best baker, and made the ugliest, TASTIEST banana cake from scratch.

Jay had a curious mind, loved science and math, invented many things, had a wonderful sense of humor and was a joy to be around. He taught young people how to make things and about science and math and politics and taught them how to drive when they were young. He taught all of his kids how to drive as soon as they could reach the pedals. He taught all of his children critical thinking and a good work ethic and that if something was worth doing, it was worth doing right. He would help kids and young people with anything. “I’ll go ask Jay” was often heard. Want to turn your car into a dune buggy? Jay would help or do it with your help.

He was thoughtful, generous to a fault, and took the best care of his wife, Mary. He loved her more than he loved himself. Before he retired, he stopped at the store every day on his way home, to get her a coke and a peppermint patty. After he retired, he had a glass of juice waiting for her when she got up in the morning and cooked her breakfast. In cold weather, he would heat an afghan to wrap her in. He did laundry, vacuumed, and always had the cleanest patio on the block.

Even though he “hated that shit,” he went to every school function; every event.. We never knew he “hated that shit” until long after we were grown. By that time, after years of school and sporting functions, we got it. He hated that shit BECAUSE IT SUCKS!!!! He had the best sense of humor, and was the best listener. He supported his kids in their decisions, even when we made the wrong ones. He could have said “I told you so” a thousand times, but never did. He used to call just to “shoot the shit” and NEVER put himself first. He played a huge role in Emily’s childhood, and let her know she was the smartest, most important, wonderful kid in the world. He picked her up from school for years; always packing her the best after school snacks. With him, she learned to enjoy smoked oysters, hanging out in the garage, and how it felt to be the most important person in the world.

His only prayer was short and sweet: Good bread, good meat. Good God, let’s eat. And he only said it when he was trying to gently prod mom to HURRY THE HELL UP and get dinner on the table. Every year on Thanksgiving, we would all say what we were grateful for. Every night at dinner, we ate together as a family,, and no matter how long or crappy his day had been, he made time for each of us to tell the others about our day. When we were kids, he would sometimes stop and bring us candy bars, but even when he didn’t, seeing him pull up was the best part of the day.

He often worked out of town, sometimes 6 or 7 days a week, 12 hour shifts. He worked harder than he should have, but because he did, we never went without. The air in the house changed when he was around, and we always knew he would keep us safe. He loved Alfred E. Newman, and was famous for saying, “What, me worry?” And he often told us, “When in trouble or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.”

He rarely complained, even when he had every right to. His only complaint for years, he turned into a joke. Somebody would be complaining about their day, and he would get that little smile on his face and say, “Well, my foot hurts.” A lot more than his foot hurt, but he tried not to let on.

He bought pizza for homeless guys, gave them socks, made chili for them, and spent a lot of time thinking about them during inclement weather. He was the least materialistic person ever. He told his kids not to spend money they didn’t have, but never judged us when we did.

He loved tacos, chocolate, and beer. He loved smoking cigarettes, working in his garage, and doing the crossword puzzle. He hung on longer than he should have, because he wanted to make sure we were all right. He will forever be a part of us, and will stay with us always.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

By Lewis Carroll

"The sun was shining on the sea,

Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make

The billows smooth and bright —

And this was odd, because it was

The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,

Because she thought the sun

Had got no business to be there

After the day was done —

"It's very rude of him," she said,

"To come and spoil the fun."

The sea was wet as wet could be,

The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because

No cloud was in the sky:

No birds were flying overhead —

There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Were walking close at hand;

They wept like anything to see

Such quantities of sand:

If this were only cleared away,'

They said, it would be grand!'

If seven maids with seven mops

Swept it for half a year,

Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,

That they could get it clear?'

I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,

And shed a bitter tear.

O Oysters, come and walk with us!'

The Walrus did beseech.

A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,

Along the briny beach:

We cannot do with more than four,

To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,

But never a word he said:

The eldest Oyster winked his eye,

And shook his heavy head —

Meaning to say he did not choose

To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,

All eager for the treat:

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,

Their shoes were clean and neat —

And this was odd, because, you know,

They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,

And yet another four;

And thick and fast they came at last,

And more, and more, and more —

All hopping through the frothy waves,

And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter

Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock

Conveniently low:

And all the little Oysters stood

And waited in a row.

The time has come,' the Walrus said,

To talk of many things:

Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —

Of cabbages — and kings —

And why the sea is boiling hot —

And whether pigs have wings.'

But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,

Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

And all of us are fat!'

No hurry!' said the Carpenter.

They thanked him much for that.

A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,

Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

Are very good indeed —

Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,

We can begin to feed.'

But not on us!' the Oysters cried,

Turning a little blue.

After such kindness, that would be

A dismal thing to do!'

The night is fine,' the Walrus said.

Do you admire the view?

It was so kind of you to come!

And you are very nice!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

Cut us another slice:

I wish you were not quite so deaf —

I've had to ask you twice!'

It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,

To play them such a trick,

After we've brought them out so far,

And made them trot so quick!'

The Carpenter said nothing but

The butter's spread too thick!'

I weep for you,' the Walrus said:

I deeply sympathize.'

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

Before his streaming eyes.

O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,

You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?'

But answer came there none —

And this was scarcely odd, because

They'd eaten every one."