You wore a lot of hats in your brief lifetime, Jo. You were so many things to so many people. You were the catalyst for so much good, so much happiness, and so many hilarious jokes.
Your tireless energy spilled into the lives of those of us who live in this community and prodded us into doing things we never would have thought possible. Your ideas, your direction, your creativity lifted us to heights that made us believe in ourselves. And you were our most loyal fan.
I remember so many times seeing you in your Santa Claus hat, standing on the back of a flatbed truck, providing color and Christmas cheer as you announced the Jenks Christmas parade. The participants and observers alike couldn't wait to hear what you'd have to say about the next band, the next group of tiny twirlers, or the next decorated antique car. Always a new description, always a fresh observation, always a lot of fun.
The festival atmosphere you created didn't stop with parades, though. It was largly due to your inspiration that our town became widely known for the Teddy Bear Festival held annually. With your furry bear hat, complete with little round ears, you advertised, talked up and made known to all just what fun things were happening in Jenks, America.
Wearing your public servant hat, as the "official" Mayor of Main Street, you went up and down the avenues, visiting with shop keepers, customers, bankers, city officials, everyone that had a part in making our town "tick," taking those mental notes, watching for the good things, and also the things that could be improved. And you were never shy about making constructive suggestions that might improve those situations you felt could be bettered by a kind word or thought, or a little elbow grease.
In your writer's hat, you made your newspaper column, "Berry Pickin'" the most-read column in this town's newspaper history. Why? Because your readers knew they could always count on you to make them smile, make them know a neighbor a little better, and bring a warm message of love to brighten their day.
Your closet full of hats also included those you wore that had a widespread effect. When you became one of the leading advocates for the "Victim's Rights" board that was developed in Tulsa, yours was a voice that carried wisdom, strength, and yes, experience. When you spoke, people listened.
Your claimed as your personal friends many of our state's leaders. Your red, white, and blue hat was worn proudly, always worn with knowledge of the solemnness of the occasion when you chose to back a particular political candidate. Whoever that candidate might be, they could count on you to present their cause in the most favorable, most honest light. You were not one to go down and cast your vote as your "civic duty." Yours was cast with much deliberation, much thought, and much belief that government CAN make a difference, if chosen carefully.
And then you found it necessary to wear another kind of hat. Not just one hat, but many different ones. Goofy, Donald Duck, multi-flowered, the wilder the better. These hats were designed to not only shield your frequently shiny head from the hot sun and the cold temperatures, but more importantly to bring wide grins from those who saw you. Your battle with cancer was never a reason for you to host a pity party. It was yet another catalyst to make others aware of how quickly this "monster", as you called it, can invade the life of an unsuspecting person.
It was during this last five years that we possiboly saw you at your best. You never slowed down . . . at least, not for long. In between your treatments, in between your surgeries, you kept up that pace that you had traveled for so long. You showed us that, even though we meet obstacles, BIG ones, we can always put that foot forward one more time and make a difference. You taught us that when our world is crumbling around us, we can still bring a ray of sunshine into another person's life. You brought to our world comfort and ease, and the belief that life is still good, no matter what life might put on our platter.
And now, this day, you are wearing, to my way of thinking, the most wonderful hat of all. You are wearing your glorified hat. The hat that holds all of the jewels that you have earned as your reward for loving others so deeply, so truthfully, and so well.
We will miss you, Jo Berry. There is an emptiness left behind that will be hard to fill. There is a silence that is deafening. But there is a joy in our hearts that is there because of having known and loved you.
Jo Berry, loved by many, calmly passed from this world at 2:15 p.m. on Dec. 5, 2000 at St. Francis Hospital in Tulsa. She fought the evils of cancer, Ewing's Sarcoma, for over five and one-half years. Survived by her mom, Jean Berry and her nephew, Beau Berry of Jenks, she leaves behind a legacy that will live forever in the lives of those that were touched.
She graduated from Tulsa Central High School then attended OSU.
Jo traveled extensively to both coasts as a fashion consultant in the 1970s. She became the promotional voice for the Tulsa Twisters Rodeo Team then continued as an award winning pro rodeo editorialist and photographer. Her articles also appeared in the Western Horseman magazine.
She continued writing and is recognized by many for her Jenks column "Berry Pickin'."
Always a volunteer for civic, victims' rights, church and social events, her efforts will be missed.
She lived a full life. She always did it her way. She cared for those around her and when she needed help, she received seven fold back of what she did.
A memorial fund has been set up at Bank One, Jenks.
Service was held Friday, Dec. 8, 10 a.m. at the Latter Day Saints Church in Sapulpa, 920 Pioneer.
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