J.A. Sparks of Deport died on Saturday, December 18, 2010 in Brentwood Terrace Healthcare and Rehab Center in Paris. He was 86 years old. Mr. Sparks was born in Clardy, Lamar Co., Texas on June 1, 1924, the son of Joseph Alexander and Jessie Hulett Sparks. He married the former Juanita Webster on January 12, 1952 in Texarkana. Mr. Sparks was the owner and operator of Sparks Metal Construction for many years, was a long time member of First United Methodist Church, Deport, a member of Deport Masonic Lodge #381 for 61 years. He was a former school board member of the Deport Independent School District; was on the Board of Directors for First National Bank of Deport for many years and a U.S. Army Veteran of World War II.

My Uncle JA was one of my favorite people on this earth.  He was the first adult who treated me as a sentient, thinking being when I was a child.  There was genuine interest in his eyes when we talked about trees, farming, building, and shooting.  JA, to the horror of my mother and delight of my father, taught me to shoot a pistol accurately and safely when I was nine years old.  Not a small cheap .22 cowboy knock off mind you – I learned to shoot using his big stainless .357!  That same summer he introduced me to the biggest oak tree I have ever seen – the acorns as big as silver dollars and he shared his childhood collection of arrowheads and tales of the collecting.  I returned home to my parents after a week at the Sparks’ home, with a burn scar on my thumb (lesson:  don’t pick up odd scraps of metal on a job site…), a .30 caliber rifle casing from his WWII days, and a milky-quartz Caddo-knapped arrow head.  I have held on to those mementos, including the scar, all this time.

As I grew into adulthood and life took me here and there, I got to see uncle JA every couple of years – he helped me get an “A” on a collage paper with a letter about a deer hunting trip in Germany during the closing days of WWII.  When visiting, we would ride the fields in his truck, he would describe in detail what he was working on at the time, eat Chinese food – his favorite, and just talk.  He always had the same look of interest, acceptance, and care.  Knowing that Uncle JA’s sweet tooth rivaled my own, I would send him chocolate from Europe when we lived in Germany, with my Aunt Juanita doling it out to him a little at a time.  After he went to the hospital, I sent a couple packages, knowing that he might not understand where or who they came from, but I hopped they would be a happy surprise during his day.

My own son, who at 9-years old was also enamored by Indians, is the current owner of JA’s arrowhead.  I gave it to him after we got home from a Christmas visit to Texas where Carlton got to have lunch and ride around with JA and me.  I have never seen that child happier.  He keeps it safe in an old jewelry box on top of his book shelves.   As for that old, patina covered .30 casing: It was in my pocket on a cold December morning when we laid a better man than I will ever be to rest in the gray-brown Texas soil.  JA Sparks helped shape who I am and his memory and example will live with me for all my days.