James M. "Jay" Huebinger

Lifetime resident of Marion, Texas, businessman and farmer, James Huebinger passed away peacefully at his residence on Sunday, September 19. He was born in Marion on Feb 18, 1926, to John and Rosalie Huebinger. He graduated from Central Catholic High School in San Antonio and shortly thereafter enlisted in the Army, fighting for his country in WWII in the European theatre. He received an Honorable Discharge on March 30, 1946.

James returned home and took over Huebinger’s Meat Market from his dad and built up this business to include full service meat processing and meat storage freezer facility. Active in the community, he served as Fire Chief, helped found the annual Fireman’s Sausage Supper, assisted in securing additional sourcing for the municipal water system and refurbished the city’s waste treatment facility among many other contributions.

After selling the Meat Market, he established himself as a progressive and successful farmer, with acreage he had gradually accumulated while in business. His final years were spent in retirement enjoying family and friends, travelling, storytelling, dancing, fishing and camping.

He was a dynamic and charismatic individual, a beloved father and family man, a loving companion and a friend to many.

James was preceded in death by his parents, John and Rosalie Huebinger, and his brother, Vincent Huebinger.

He is survived by his loving partner and companion Vera McDaniel of Marion; sons Lynn Huebinger and wife Brenda of Buda and Tony Huebinger and wife Laurie of Marion; daughters Jamie Whisonant and husband Jim of Sugarland and Suzanne Wood and husband Bill of Clear Lake; his children’s mother Elvira Huebinger of Marion; brothers John Huebinger Jr of Colorado Springs, Colo, and Jerome Huebinger and wife Mary of Hammond, La; sister Agnes Allen of West Monroe, La; grandsons Brandon Whisonant and Adam Huebinger of Austin, Jordan Whisonant, Chris Wood and Russell Whisonant and wife Donna of Houston and Tyler Huebinger of Marion; granddaughters Chrystal McFarlen and husband Mike of Katy, Laury Doria and husband Dan of Marion, Nikki Huebinger of Marion, and Cynthia Wood of Clear Lake; great granddaughters Madison Whisonant of Houston and Mia, Leila and Ava Doria of Marion.

On behalf of James Huebinger, we would like to welcome all the many family members and friends who have shown up for this event to remember and celebrate the life of our beloved father. Dad was a larger than life individual who touched many people in countless ways. Your presence here pays tribute to the few or many interactions you had with him and the lasting impression he left behind. He will be an easy man to remember in our many thoughts and his physical presence will be missed as he was an integral part of his family and a constant source of enjoyment for all that knew him.

As we have reflected on his wonderful life, we know that Dad fully embraced the many roles that made up his full life. In the early years, his immediate family and closest friends called him Jay. As he grew older and ventured out in the world, many knew him as James. For his children, he was an endearing father and we would affectionately call him Dad. And for the grandchildren that he loved so, he was Opie, a name that meant something special to all of us since that was what we had called our grandfather.

Within each of these major roles in his life, Dad wore a variety of caps, figuratively speaking, although he almost always had some type of cap on when he was working. And under each of these caps, he embraced the role that was defined with his full commitment, energy and enthusiasm – a tribute to his high level of accountability and his tremendous zest for life.

Since many of you will have memories of Dad in one or many of these roles, we would like to share some of our most treasured roles with you. These may just give you a greater understanding of this wonderful man or, more importantly, call to mind your interactions with him in that role and cause you to grin, laugh, cry or just reflect on how he touched you in some way.

Jay was born and raised in Marion, Texas and spent the majority of his life in the center of this small community. Jay was first and foremost a son to his loving and hard working parents, John and Rosalie, and from his stories, he provided them with many years of good memories and several challenges since he was a strong willed adventurous boy. As a brother, he would often talk about the family get togethers here in Marion and down in Zhuel where he and the rest of the kin would play for hours on end. He was a fighter as well and he and brother Vincent were ready to take on all comers in wrestling matches, more for sport that anything else. He was a friend to many of his peers and they would run up and down the Santa Clara Creek, playing games, hiding out in the old Cotton Gin and having corn cob and rubber band gun fights when they were younger. As Jay got older, he and his friends would often be seen riding around in his first car with the blue painted head liner and paste on stars and moon – there was a bit of an artist hiding under one of those caps as well. He was also a hard worker, tending to his chores around the house and on the farm – milking cows, shucking corn and hoeing crops – helping is parents provide good vittles for their own family and often relatives who came to sit at the Huebinger table for a good meal during the dark times of the depression. He was also a musician, playing in the family’s self-styled mini orchestra. Jay was also a player, picking up tennis before it was so fashionable and then later playing baseball with his kids in the vacant lot in front of the house, Scott with his friends and family; charades with his family and their friends and dominoes with his grandchildren. He was always up for a good game and the social interaction that it provided.

As a man, James felt the need to serve his country and enlisted in the service. He was a soldier and warrior, doing battle far from his home but in and near his German homeland. What a mixed set of emotions that must have been for him but he knew that right had to be done and he responded as a true American. Many a time, his family and friends would listen to the vivid stories of his experiences in the physically demanding and mental hell of war. He was such a great story teller and his stories would make you wide eyed in amazement since he could almost make you feel like you were there with him – whether it was a story about the war or the big rattlesnake that he killed or his latest adventure discovering a new part of the country he had never before seen. He was also a survivor, having been hit and drug by a train during guard duty after the war. Told he might not live – he proved them wrong. Told he might not walk again – he recovered to the point that he could work as hard as any man we know, sometimes butchering 10 to 12 head of cattle a day at his business. Yes, he was the town butcher too, taking over the business from his dad and expanding it to a full service meat processing facility and adding one of the first frozen meat storage facilities in the area. He was also an astute businessman and he never lost site of the fundamentals in how he ran this hometown market. Upon asking him once how it felt to not have a boss that he had to report to. His answer was clear and revealing – “ you have it wrong, every person that comes into this shop is my boss”. His commitment to customer service was one that is sorely missing in many of today’s business interactions, as we are all too well aware. He was also an active community member and served as Fire Chief, assisted in starting the highly successful Marion Sausage Supper, worked closely with other community members to secure water rights from Solms wells to enhance the existing municipal water system and took on the “coveted” job of rebuilding the waste treatment facility into a first class system – taking the classes and training needed to ensure it was set up right. James was also a bowler and a dancer. He enjoyed the social engagement and friendly challenge of 9 pin bowling and was still throwing that “hop hook” when he was in his late 70’s. If dancing is good for the soul, then James’ soul was in a healthy state since the soles of his shoes touched many of the wood dance floors within a 25 mile radius of Marion. - Gruene, American Legion Hall, Sangerhalle, our own Blue Moon Hall and finally The Farmer’s Daughter. If someone would have uttered the now popular catch phrase, “Who’s your farmer?” James hand would have shot up immediately. Yes, he had sold the meat market and took up farming full time. This was his true vocation and he embraced it with gusto – plowing the land, harvesting the crops and raising cattle. Although he had some help farming, he rarely gave up the planting and harvesting roles, deriving a great deal of satisfaction in this noble effort of eliciting the best from Mother Nature. He was also a proficient welder and took great pride in building his own farm implements – a gram haymie and a six row shredder topped the list. I remember him calling out the family to demo the shredder that he built from scratch with parts from the junk yard and stared in amazement as he rev’d the thing up to full speed, so loud it sounded like a helicopter taking off, and then watching his big grin as he pointed to the glass of water he had placed on the deck as it was barely making a ripple. James was a builder too, as evidenced by the grain silos he erected almost single handedly and maybe not so noticeable, the grain trailers he constructed out of old truck frames working side by side with his young kids to install the hundreds of bolts holding the side panels on. He was also a philosopher and spent many hours with friends at the Hitchin’ Post and Wosnig’s Welding Shop pondering the news of the day and giving each other bad advice. He was also a vintner, making the best Mustang grape wine using the same recipe and technique that his father had used. He was an adventurer and he and Vera would hop in the Hi/Lo trailer and set out on the road for local trips as well as long hauls through the breadbasket of his country to explore and recharge. He was also a devout Catholic, having graduated from Central Catholic High School, he supported many of the local church enhancement efforts, including helping to lay many of the tiles you see in this very church and, when out of town, he scoured the phone book to find a nearby church where he could pay homage to his Lord and Savior.

And then there was Dad, loving father to his children, a role that he assumed more as the natural course of things but one that meant more and more to him as the years went by. He was a provider, seeing to it that his family had all the necessities and some of the niceties as well. We always had good healthy food to eat, a nice warm home, decent clothes and medical attention whenever we needed it. There were the extras as well – Christmas presents, an occasional meal at “Hot Shots”, Schulze’s Café or a special dinner and movie in San Antonio. We also each had a car – a necessity in our eyes when it was our means to get to the “big” cities of Seguin and New Braunfels. And he sent all of his kids through college – an expectation he expressed to us at a very early age. Dad was also a disciplinarian – working in the capacity as judge, jury and enforcer. Unfortunately for us, he took on this role with his usual gusto but was fair so we knew we would be punished if he caught us doing something wrong. Fortunately for us, we estimate his capture rate was only about 20% so we still got the better deal. Still, we did learn some awfully painful lessons. On the other side, Dad was a real supporter, bailing us out many times when we made foolish mistakes or just needed some Dad help. He was always just a phone call and a helping hand away. And Dad was a hard worker, toiling side by side with his children and fellow employees in the shop, in the fields and at his home. He set an expectation and a standard for working hard that has served all of us well in our own lives.

And finally, there was Opie, a real treasure in the eyes of his grand children. Sometimes gruff on the outside, he was a real softie on the inside when it came to all of them. As a baker, he loved turning out hundreds of Lepkuchen cookies and kids, grandkids and friends alike would relish these tasty treats. What made these even more special was that he had shelled all the pecans for these cookies (with many, many bags of pecans to spare that he gave out to us routinely). He was a fisherman and spent many hours with Vera and some of the grandkids fishing at the coast. He was a camper from way back, whether it be on the Guadalupe River before it got crowded, the San Marcos River where cooking the big breakfasts was his specialty or the banks of the Brazos where he gave new meaning to the structure of “dirt clods”. He was ever the joker, using his dry sense of humor to evoke a laugh but at the same time provide a subtle message to these youngsters to make sure they knew he was concerned about their future. It was always a special treat for them when their Opie was going to be around to share good times with them.

This was our Jay, James, Dad and Opie – as we knew him and as we will remember him. It was a struggle to write this brief outline of his life – not because there was too little to say but because there was too much that had to be left out. He was, as mentioned earlier, a great story teller and his exploits would sometimes grow as the years went by. So if these memories have grown over the years past what you remember or are slightly different than you remember, please forgive us, but we will leave that up to you to figure out how to make that right with him. He lived a very, very full life and each of you will have your own stories and remembrances of him. We hope you will treasure these as much as we will since we all will miss this truly remarkable man.

Thank you once again for your presence here today and may God bless you and your family.