Shirley Christine Hargett

Shirley Christine “Chris” Hargett passed away on Saturday, July 26, 2025, at the age of 82. She was born on December 20, 1942, in Higdon Store, Georgia, to parents Clarence Julius Patterson and Georgie Madla Patterson (Cantrell).

After growing up in Georgia, Chris met and married her second husband George Hargett in 1970 and became a proud Air Force spouse. She later moved to Puerto Rico due to George's career with the Air Force. After Puerto Rico, the family moved to Oklahoma, Iran, Germany, and then back to Oklahoma, where they settled permanently.

Chris loved old gospel music, gardening, and cooking, as well as spending time with family. She had many accomplishments in her life, such as spending several years as president of the Iris Garden Club and PTA president at Ridgecrest Elementary. In addition, Chris worked diligently to get the Blue Star Memorial designation for the Charles B. Hall Airpark. Chris enjoyed writing and learning foreign languages; she took creative writing and Russian classes at Rose State College. Chris loved her family deeply and liked to tell silly jokes to her grandkids. She taught her family to help those who are not as fortunate and will always be remembered as someone who loved to help and feed others.

Chris was preceded in death by first husband Donald Mathis, second husband George Hargett, daughter Trudy Hargett, son Timothy Mathis, daughter Valerie Hargett, and brothers Willie and Elvin Patterson. She is survived by daughters Georgetta Skaggs (Lyndal), April Coleman (Dale), Amy Walker (David), and Kelley Hargett. She is also survived by her 8 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren who will all deeply miss her and cherish all the memories of her that will last a lifetime.

A poem written by Chris Hargett:

Déjà Vu

Please don’t laugh when I ask a question of you.

Have you ever had a feeling of déjà vu,

That you’ve known a person or been some place before,

That perhaps you’ve had another life, or maybe many more?

I’m sure I’ve been someone else,

A gypsy, a soldier, a hunter of pelts,

A singer, a slave, or perhaps a poet.

I have lived before, I just know it.

I truly expect that when I die, I will live again.

The question is who, or what, or where, or when.

As for who, or what, or where, or when, I have no choice.

If I did, I’d choose to be a healer of hurts and cause others to rejoice.