Jimmy Dale Crowe died March 18, 2018. He is remembered by his son, Steve.
Jimmy Dale Crowe — a healthy baby boy was born on or about Oct. 21, 1933, near Sikeston, Missouri, to R.W. “Reuben” and Lois Crowe. There is some doubt about that date, as all births and deaths were recorded whenever the traveling magistrate happened to pass through town.
It seemed unusual that records reflected all local births and deaths appeared to have occurred the same day of that particular week.
And another irregularity — the birth certificate indicated that Jimmy Dale Crowe was female. Jim always argued that point, but his family still enjoyed teasing him about that.
He grew up in Missouri with a younger brother, Jerry, and even younger sister, Janice. Summers saw him riding with his father, a long-distance truck driver. They made wagers as to how long it would take them to drive to their destinations, with the winner choosing what they would eat for their next meal. His father was good at this game, and as a result, Jim learned to love scrambled eggs with ketchup.
The family moved to Central Florida when Jim was a senior in high school. His brother hated Florida and ended up returning to Missouri as soon as he graduated high school.
Jim kind of liked Florida. He met and married a woman named Wyonda Sue George, and, soon after, Charles Stephen Crowe arrived on the scene, followed 18 months later by Vickie Allyn Crowe.
Jim was athletic. He had played football and baseball in high school and even tried out for the St. Louis Cardinals as a pitcher.
I've seen numerous pictures of Jim doing handstands and walking on his hands. He had hurt his knee playing football and eventually it hurt him so bad he had to have surgery to repair the damage years of “living with it” had caused. After the surgery the discomfort was better, but the flexibility in his knee was restricted.
He still enjoyed outdoor activities: fishing, shooting, golf. He was always fishing — offshore, coastal, freshwater — it didn't matter to him. I remember going shooting with him; he had an old lever-action .22 rifle and he could throw a bottle cap in the air and shoot it before it hit the ground.
For years after his knee surgery he continued to enjoy bowling; and he was good at it.
He had worked at a bowling alley, gave lessons and even bowled two perfect 300 games, bowling 12 strikes in a row in league play on two different occasions.
Eventually, his knees got so bad he had to give up bowling. And 40 years later his knees forced him to give up golf as well, but not before he scored two holes-in-one.
He absolutely loved golf. He golfed every Wednesday, going into work several hours early so he could get off to play golf in the afternoon. And if he could talk Sue into it, he would golf every weekend at least once, maybe twice; both Saturday and Sunday.
He loved going on trips to the mountains with some of his buddies for golf marathons, two or three rounds a day for several days in a row. He even played an entire round of golf without a knee. An infection following knee replacement surgery resulted in having to remove the infected prosthesis and leave him without a knee joint for several weeks while treating the remaining infection in his body.
He decided that with his knee securely wrapped he could probably hit a golf ball. And he was right. He played 18 holes. My golfing buddies called him Sharky. Twenty years older than most of us, bad knees, both hips replaced, tri-focal glasses, he was still hard to beat on the golf course.
Everybody wanted him on their team when a bet or bragging rights were on the line. Jim would tell them he had never lost a golfing bet.
“If I lost the game, I just refused to pay,” he would joke.
He was fearless on the putting green. He would crush putts that would have rolled 30 feet past the hole if he missed, but they always seemed to hit the center of the cup.
Over the years Jim worked at Holler Chevrolet in Orlando, Florida; Glenn Joiner and Sons in Winter Garden; and Winter Garden Lanes, before he began working at the post office. He delivered mail, worked behind the counter and eventually was promoted to assistant postmaster, Winter Garden.
After that he was chosen as officer-in-charge in Ocoee, Florida, before being selected as postmaster in Winter Garden, where he continued to work until he retired after more than 30 years with the postal system.
When he was 45, he and Sue bought two acres on a lake and, acting as his own general contractor, proceeded to build a house with views of the lake from every room. Once the slab was poured and block walls were up, he along with family and friends installed the rafters, roof decking, shingles and windows.
He framed the walls, hung drywall and paneling and did all the masonry to install Florida field stone on the interior and exterior of the fireplace before painting the house inside and out.
This was his home for the next 38 years.
A few years before he retired, while on vacation in North Carolina, he and Sue bought several lots on a mountain along the Blue Ridge Parkway as an investment or possibly a future vacation home. When he got home the real-estate agent called to inform him that one of the six lots was already sold and offered to refund his money for the one lot or trade him another lot in the same area. He took the trade.
The next trip there he discovered the replacement lot sat just above a natural crevice in the mountain giving him a dramatic view into the valley below and sunrises every morning. He decided this was the lot for a vacation cabin.
The next year on another vacation trip he started talking to contractors about building a cabin, showing them sketches of a cabin he had drawn from pictures he'd seen. About six months later, the contractor called telling Jim that he needed a “draw” in order to continue work.
“Continue work on what?” Jim asked.
The contractor told him they'd already dynamited the excess stone to make room for a basement, built the foundation and constructed exterior walls and roof rafters — they had about half the cabin completed — all with no contract, formal plans or approvals from Jim.
The contractor had assumed Jim's sketches and preliminary discussions about future construction were enough to proceed with building the cabin. The cabin turned out great, even if it was unexpected.
Once he retired, he and Sue started spending six months on the lake in Florida and six months at the cabin in the mountains.
Jim's other interests including painting and woodworking before moving into stained glass. Jim started making stained-glass pieces of art: lampshades, window inserts, bowls, sun catchers and many others.
First it was for fun, then people started requesting special custom pieces. He would create these pieces for the cost of the materials and no labor. He would even barter stained-glass pieces for such things as tree removal and jobs too big for him to do personally.
Easter 2014 Jim was sitting at home watching TV when he suffered a stroke. The stroke left him without the use of his right arm or leg, a vocabulary of about 14 words and the inability to effectively communicate.
On Monday, March 18, 2018, Jim Crowe passed away in his sleep.
Married for 65 years to his high school sweetheart, Sue, he was also survived by two children, Steve and Vickie; two grandchildren, Doug and Chris; and two great-grandchildren, Tristyn and Greyson, with a third great-grandchild on the way.
These are just a few of the things I remember about Jim. He was my go-to guy when I needed help. Someone I could go to lunch with when I was having a bad day and just needed a little pick-me-up. A sounding board to discuss ideas. The person I trusted when I needed advice. I will miss Sharky.
My friends called him Sharky. I called him dad.
— Steve Crowe