John Thomas Carthel
1901-1996
Note: David Fulbright read to the Batesville gathering the following message from James Carthel concerning the passing of his father. We reprint it here for those of you who were not in Batesville and we express our sympathy to the Carthel family in their loss.
"This message is being composed as I reflect on the wonderful time I had, accompanying my Dad (John Thomas Carthel) to the Fulbright Reunion in 1993. That year he was the eldest present (92 years) and he had a wonderful time, too, meeting members of the Fulbright Clan. The folks in Springfield were most gracious and generous hosts. I look forward to attending in the years to come, probably after I retire again.
"On May 22, 1996, he was about his business of putting in a garden. A row of dahlias had been planted, he had run the John Deer tiller over some ground and he apparently was preparing to jump-start his Oliver 55 Diesel (vintage 1955!) with his pickup truck when something happened. My brother, John Lee, found him dead late in the day on the ground by the pickup. The cables were connected to the battery of the tractor but not to the pickup. He had a gash in his forehead and the glass from the left rear-view mirror of the pickup was scatterred on the ground beside him.
"The temperature that day was around 105 degrees and a stiff wind was blowing. One can only speculate on how it happened. What we do think we know is that he was doing what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it. Never mind that a 95-year-old should not have been out in such harsh conditions.
"In the house was his automatic bread making machine still warm with the loaf he started before he went out to work the garden. In the microwave oven was some thawing hamburger meat and the regular oven was baking a potato for his lunch. The nights in Floyd County usually are cool enough to open up the house and let the breezes through. He had left windows open that morning, no doubt planning to come back in and close it up before it got so hot.
"He was in total control of his affairs, taking care of what needed to be done. We think that he died the way he wanted to—with his boots on. While we grieve our loss, we rejoice in the knowledge that he enjoyed such a rich and long life. We are privileged to have had him for a Father and Friend."
—by James Carthel