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Jack Alfred Hillhouse Sr.

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Jack Alfred Hillhouse Sr.

Birth
Harris County, Texas, USA
Death
17 Nov 1968 (aged 22)
Baytown, Harris County, Texas, USA
Burial
Highlands, Harris County, Texas, USA GPS-Latitude: 29.8550696, Longitude: -95.0605467
Memorial ID
View Source
This is written for Jack's sons and younger relatives, who never were blessed to really know Jack, because of his death in a car accident while still a young man.

Jack was my second oldest brother. He died while I was still in Elementary School, and because I was adopted by my grandparents in the same time period, most of our relationship was more on the uncle-nephew level.

He was the cool uncle and did those things that endeared him to a young boy's heart but made Momma's hair turn gray. I see him like a young Paul Neuman.

Jack liked to hunt and fish, as did most everybody else in the family. He bought me my first BB gun and though Mother protested, I still got to keep the gun. My other brother, Steve, took the gun away from me when I attacked several of the neighborhood boys who caught me with Karen and tormented me over it. But I got the gun back after I cooled down. Later the gun was actually used to solve a crime. Some punks had been breaking into peoples cabins and homes, and they broke in and took my BB gun, but were stupid enough to use it in public and thus be identified. Don't mess with my BB gun!

Once Jack killed an Armadillo and brought it home to dress, cook and eat. Mom wouldn't have anything to do with it. So he took it to Inez, the old lady who lived in the woods behind our house. Inez fried it up, though I don't remember how, since she didn't have electricity and cooked on a fire outside her shack. I remember that the Armadillo tasted great, like chicken. (I don't know if it was really so great or just remembered that way from a child's perspective of getting to eat weird food with Jack.)

Jack always loved a good time and was usually the life of the party. He liked the ladies and they liked him. He loved a good laugh. One of his favorite saying was, "I'm not conceited because conceitedness is a fault and I have no faults." He liked humorous songs. One he often sang was about "nothin' being sadder that a bar with no beer", and another one about "a big black bug in my beer". He sang or quoted lines out of the one about the bar with no beer so much that after his death, mention of the song would depress everyone for missing him. But he always sang it with a mischievous smile.

I guess he must have had enemies but I don't remember any. I do remember Jack getting into a fight with a relative. The relative was drunk and thought he'd try to whip him. The relative pulled a knife and Jack beat him up until someone stopped it before he seriously hurt the relative. (It seems that most Hillhouses have a tendency to go blind with rage when provoked.) They were usually best buds, and were friends again later.

I don't know why he bothered with me, being a little tag-along, but he didn't mind taking me places.

I remember him taking me to see a movie called "Jack the Giant Killer". When we usually went to an indoor theater it was the Bronson theater but we went to one in old Baytown. I think it was called the Bayview, it later became a church. For some reason that movie had a profound effect on me and I loved the old stop motion clay monster movies for years. I don't know if Jack just went to see a movie with his name in the title, but it was a special time for me.

Jack had a dog, a black mutt we called Bear. He was about the dumbest dog ever. They tried to hunt with the dog, but I guess the dog didn't get the concept. When my Dad tried to relieve himself against a tree the dog jumped up to take a bite. The dog never made it back from the woods.

When we had the cabin along the bank of the Trinity River. Jack decided to swim across the river from behind the cabin to the sandbar on the other side just to see if he could. The river was pretty wide there with rapid currents. He made it there and back but got a little spooked because it was harder than he thought and had some doubts about making it on the way back.

Once Jack took me swimming. Usually with other family members, we would go to Roseland Park and swim in the pool. But Jack took me out to some lake that had a reputation for being bottomless. There was a lot of older teens and young adults there. Someone had made a high diving board there and Jack would dive off right into the middle of the bottomless lake. I was just a little kid who couldn't yet swim, so I played on the shore, wearing a life vest. Somehow Jack talked me into jumping off the diving board with him. He was that way and always wanted everyone to have a good time and enjoy what he enjoyed. Jack took me on that diving board (Mom would have freaked) and up we went and down we came into the depths of the bottomless lake. Bubbles churning all around us and my lungs wanting to burst for breath. We never found the bottom but eventually started heading back up. I sure needed to breath by the time we broke the surface but I wasn't too worried, I knew Jack wouldn't let me go and all the time he had his arms wrapped around me.

Jack loved his family and loved being an uncle to all his nieces and nephews. But the great joy in his life was his first born son, Robert Earl. Sadly he died before knowing about his wife being pregnant with a second son, who was named Jack, in honor of his father.

Story By, Timothy Hillhouse
This is written for Jack's sons and younger relatives, who never were blessed to really know Jack, because of his death in a car accident while still a young man.

Jack was my second oldest brother. He died while I was still in Elementary School, and because I was adopted by my grandparents in the same time period, most of our relationship was more on the uncle-nephew level.

He was the cool uncle and did those things that endeared him to a young boy's heart but made Momma's hair turn gray. I see him like a young Paul Neuman.

Jack liked to hunt and fish, as did most everybody else in the family. He bought me my first BB gun and though Mother protested, I still got to keep the gun. My other brother, Steve, took the gun away from me when I attacked several of the neighborhood boys who caught me with Karen and tormented me over it. But I got the gun back after I cooled down. Later the gun was actually used to solve a crime. Some punks had been breaking into peoples cabins and homes, and they broke in and took my BB gun, but were stupid enough to use it in public and thus be identified. Don't mess with my BB gun!

Once Jack killed an Armadillo and brought it home to dress, cook and eat. Mom wouldn't have anything to do with it. So he took it to Inez, the old lady who lived in the woods behind our house. Inez fried it up, though I don't remember how, since she didn't have electricity and cooked on a fire outside her shack. I remember that the Armadillo tasted great, like chicken. (I don't know if it was really so great or just remembered that way from a child's perspective of getting to eat weird food with Jack.)

Jack always loved a good time and was usually the life of the party. He liked the ladies and they liked him. He loved a good laugh. One of his favorite saying was, "I'm not conceited because conceitedness is a fault and I have no faults." He liked humorous songs. One he often sang was about "nothin' being sadder that a bar with no beer", and another one about "a big black bug in my beer". He sang or quoted lines out of the one about the bar with no beer so much that after his death, mention of the song would depress everyone for missing him. But he always sang it with a mischievous smile.

I guess he must have had enemies but I don't remember any. I do remember Jack getting into a fight with a relative. The relative was drunk and thought he'd try to whip him. The relative pulled a knife and Jack beat him up until someone stopped it before he seriously hurt the relative. (It seems that most Hillhouses have a tendency to go blind with rage when provoked.) They were usually best buds, and were friends again later.

I don't know why he bothered with me, being a little tag-along, but he didn't mind taking me places.

I remember him taking me to see a movie called "Jack the Giant Killer". When we usually went to an indoor theater it was the Bronson theater but we went to one in old Baytown. I think it was called the Bayview, it later became a church. For some reason that movie had a profound effect on me and I loved the old stop motion clay monster movies for years. I don't know if Jack just went to see a movie with his name in the title, but it was a special time for me.

Jack had a dog, a black mutt we called Bear. He was about the dumbest dog ever. They tried to hunt with the dog, but I guess the dog didn't get the concept. When my Dad tried to relieve himself against a tree the dog jumped up to take a bite. The dog never made it back from the woods.

When we had the cabin along the bank of the Trinity River. Jack decided to swim across the river from behind the cabin to the sandbar on the other side just to see if he could. The river was pretty wide there with rapid currents. He made it there and back but got a little spooked because it was harder than he thought and had some doubts about making it on the way back.

Once Jack took me swimming. Usually with other family members, we would go to Roseland Park and swim in the pool. But Jack took me out to some lake that had a reputation for being bottomless. There was a lot of older teens and young adults there. Someone had made a high diving board there and Jack would dive off right into the middle of the bottomless lake. I was just a little kid who couldn't yet swim, so I played on the shore, wearing a life vest. Somehow Jack talked me into jumping off the diving board with him. He was that way and always wanted everyone to have a good time and enjoy what he enjoyed. Jack took me on that diving board (Mom would have freaked) and up we went and down we came into the depths of the bottomless lake. Bubbles churning all around us and my lungs wanting to burst for breath. We never found the bottom but eventually started heading back up. I sure needed to breath by the time we broke the surface but I wasn't too worried, I knew Jack wouldn't let me go and all the time he had his arms wrapped around me.

Jack loved his family and loved being an uncle to all his nieces and nephews. But the great joy in his life was his first born son, Robert Earl. Sadly he died before knowing about his wife being pregnant with a second son, who was named Jack, in honor of his father.

Story By, Timothy Hillhouse


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