G. G. Jackson (1918-2007)

A good friend of mine recently passed away. Mr. G. G. ("Jack") Jackson was the longtime Postmaster at Bob Jones University. When I enrolled as a freshman at BJU in the fall of 1967 (yes, that's forty years ago!), I was told that the BJU Post Office was a good place to get a job on campus. So I walked in and asked for Mr. Jackson. When I told him my name, the first thing he said to me was, "You must be Ottis and Julie's boy." I was flabbergasted that anyone would know my dad and mom, but a number of people actually did know my folks from the days when the college was located in Cleveland, Tennessee. And so it went from there.

I worked at the BJU Post Office during my student days, and after I became a faculty member in 1972, I continued on at the Post Office during the summers and during Christmas vacations. Mr. Jackson had the reputation of being a no-nonsense boss. If one of the student employees took too long to complete a mail delivery on the campus, his favorite question was: "Where have you been, to Spartanburg and back?" Spartanburg is about twenty miles east of Greenville.

During the summer, especially on some of those hot and humid South Carolina afternoons (before the Post Office was air conditioned), Mr. Jackson would sometimes talk about the early days of the school in Cleveland, Tennessee. That was when he knew my mom and dad before they got married. My mom started teaching at Bob Jones in 1942, and my dad showed up after World War II in 1946. Mr. Jackson would also talk about his years in the United States Navy during World War II. He, like my father-in-law Roy Crane, was part of that "Greatest Generation" who defended the United States in difficult times. Generally, Mr. Jackson didn't bring up the subject, but he was willing to share his experiences with those of us who worked with him.

When Mr. Jackson was not working at the Post Office, he loved to work in his garden. The vegetables from his garden were just about the best that anyone was able to produce anywhere on the campus. I really believe that he used his time in the garden as a way to relax a bit and get away from the rigors of the Post Office. It was a joy to visit with him while he was at work in his garden.

I cannot conclude these comments without paying tribute to Mrs. Iris Jackson. I also worked with Mrs. Jackson for many summers, particularly in keeping student and faculty lists correct, as well as assigning box numbers. I could share many humorous stories about Mrs. Jackson, but I think I will just say that she has always been a wonderful friend to my family, especially my children. She and Mr. Jackson have been very special to me because they have been a "living link" to my own parents. I will miss him.