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8/12/2018

Unexpected Legacies

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PicturePud goofing around at Johnson's Camp, summer 1947.
“When I think of Pud, I think, ‘Here comes fun!’”

That’s how Diana Mountjoy Hill responded in 2015 when I asked her about any memories she might have of my father. I had just started working on The Last Resort, and I was trying to track down anyone I thought might be able to offer me insights into his life in Lawrenceburg. Bill Bryant, a Lawrenceburg native and retired professor of biology who had written an article about my father’s academic career—which included the statement “Common sense, and a sense of humor, were essentials for John Goodlett”—pointed me to Diana, whom I had always known as “Dyna.” 

Pud and her dad, Lin Morgan Mountjoy, were great friends. The Mountjoy family had a big farm between Lawrenceburg and Pud’s camp on U.S. 62, so I have to imagine Pud stopped by there frequently on his way to or from Salt River, occasionally entreating his buddy to join him for some fishing. And I know Lin Morgan and his wife, Joy, visited the camp after the war with Pud and Mary Marrs.

PictureLin Morgan Mountjoy. Photo provided by Diana Mountjoy Hill.
Like nearly all of Pud’s buddies, Lin Morgan also served during WWII. Diana tells me that he and Joy wrote each other every day while he was in training at Deming Air Base in New Mexico and later while serving in North Africa at a base near Casablanca.

​When they all somewhat miraculously made it back safely to Lawrenceburg, Lin Morgan was in Pud and Mary Marrs’ wedding in December 1947. Diana was born to Lin Morgan and Joy a couple of years after that. So she was still pretty young when Pud would stop by the Mountjoy farm on his rare visits home from the Northeast.


“Whenever I heard Pud’s Ford convertible careening down our long driveway, I would run to the front window,” continued Diana. “I knew all hell was about to break loose.”

I can’t think of a better legacy than to be forever associated with “fun.” When I first heard this anecdote, I admit I was surprised. Others had shared stories about my dad’s sense of humor and his ability to talk easily with anyone from any circumstances. I had heard him described as “folksy.” But none of this initially jibed with my recollection of a disciplinarian and a serious academic. 

I’ve been delighted, however, to embrace this image of the man I never really knew. Sometimes, when I choose going outside to play rather than spending another hour inside taking care of work, I think of him. When I’m spending time with friends and I see myself fall into playful behavior unbefitting a woman d’un certain âge, I think of him. When I jump in the lake for a swim or paddle my boat to a back cove in search of turtles or Great Blue Heron, I think of him.

My cousin Vince, Pud’s nephew and namesake (“John Vincent,” named for his uncle John Campbell [Pud] and his uncle Robert Vincent, the youngest and oldest Goodlett brothers), told me, “He was a cool dude. He just seemed relaxed and easygoing.” 

I’m not sure those are shoes I can fill, but a legacy of “fun” is one I’d be proud to continue.

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4 Comments
Bob McWilliams
8/12/2018 08:24:25 pm

My memories of Pud are limited because I saw him very few times. The fun side is what I remember.

When we visited the Goodlett family in Baltimore I remember Pud holding court with the adults and a lot of laughter ensuing. Beers were guzzled and when they ran low, a phone call was made and voila, a man with cold beer appeared at the front door. A legitimate and legal beer store delivery. The good times continued.

Another time, before I was born, as related to me by my dad, Pud, Mary Marrs, my mom and dad were out sightseeing and decided to get some dinner. The restaurant would not serve Pud because he was wearing shorts. So they left.

Pud went to his car snd pulled out the grubbiest pair of work pants he could find and slipped them on. Back to the restaurant they went and were served with Pud laughing the whole time.

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Sallie Showalter
8/12/2018 10:41:06 pm

Bob, I can't thank you enough for sharing these memories--and helping support my thesis about Pud and fun! This is precisely why I need to spend more time with my cousins. You make my dad real to me. Thank you, my friend.

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Joe Ford
8/13/2018 10:36:06 pm

Bob, I am of Sallie's generation, and never knew Pud, but I do remember Sallie, pleasantly amused, showing me his disguised "fishing rod case," lined with styrofoam and just about tall enough for 8 or 10 cans--or maybe it really was a fishing case and I just thought it could be put to a more useful purpose! I had not yet discovered fishing, but I had discovered beer. Whatever its intended use, it's good to know Pud knew the value of a cold beer and good friends.

Salud!

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Sallie Showalter
8/16/2018 03:46:22 pm

Joe, what a memory you've unearthed! We've searched the house for that red plaid cylindrical cooler--my dad's "map case" during extensive field work--but so far to no avail. I'll let you know if it turns up unexpectedly, and we'll take it out to Salt River for old times' sake.

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    Between the debilitating effects of age and the 24-hour crush of mind-bending news, my brain is frequently in a fog. Nonetheless. I'll occasionally try to sweep aside the ashy gray matter and shed some light on what's going on at Murky Press. Perhaps together we can also gain a little insight into how we can better use words to organize and clarify the world around us.

    Cheers! 
    Sallie Showalter, Murky Press 

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