James Hedges Willingham
It is with great sadness that we announce the passing of James Hedges Willingham, 80, on October 28, 2024.
Jim was born in Chattanooga, Tn., on Nov. 24, 1943. He graduated from The Baylor School in 1962 and the University of Tennessee at Knoxville in 1967. Growing up on Lookout Mountain, he lived within shouting distance of numerous rowdy aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends, creating cherished memories of spirited parties in the red room, sunny weekends on boats on Lake Chickamauga, and shenanigans that are best kept out of public forums. He began his career selling insurance for Interstate before becoming president of Industrial Marketing and Sales, where he made lifelong friends throughout the southeast as a manufacturer’s representative. Jim was a true ambassador for the South.
Jim met his bride-to-be, Peg Grover, during her sophomore year at the University of Alabama. Jim frequently drove down to Tuscaloosa to visit, and Peg’s sorority sisters and friends loved Jimmy nearly as much as she did. When it came time to ask for Peg’s hand in marriage, her parents, Clark and Patsy, agreed — on the condition that Jim also take their aging African gray parrot, Polly. (He was perhaps not offered the full story about just how long parrots live. Polly was in her seventh decade and growing louder and more ornery by the day; she went on to live another 20 years in Peg and Jimmy’s kitchen on Old Chestnut Ridge Road.) Jim and Peg married in June of 1974 and celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this past summer. Their marriage was founded on faith, love, and unwavering commitment. Jim was the most caring, devoted, involved, fun-loving father their three girls could have ever hoped for, and he was an exceptional grandfather to their six grandchildren as well.
Jim never met a stranger. It didn’t matter if he was walking down the street in Chattanooga or in a city on the other side of the globe — he greeted everyone with an enthusiastic “Good mornin’!” or “Top of the mornin’ to ya!” His responses to inquiries about his well being often included “Better than I deserve!” or “Like Pearl at the picnic!” He had many nicknames: James, Jimbo, Uncle Jimmy, Uncle Jimmy-pesaukah (derived from taking gaggles of nieces and nephews on outings to the lake; they called him that because he was even more fun than Chattanooga’s local amusement park, Lake Winnepesaukah), Tacklebox, Otis, and eventually, thanks to his grandchildren, Gog (an evolution from Grandaddy to Gaga to Gog, which we told him stood for Grand Ol’ Granddad).
Jim was a veritable Annie Oakley with a shotgun and loved hunting anything that could fly; he remained a damn good shot even after his initial stroke. He didn’t miss a bird. Jimmy could call a duck like no one else. He was up for any adventure, anytime, anywhere, and he enjoyed innumerable hunting and fishing trips with friends and family, old and young, throughout his life. His grandchildren were undoubtedly his favorite fishing buddies. He delighted in telling tall tales and shooting the bull in a duck blind or on a dove field every bit as much as he loved hunting itself. An avid outdoorsman, he also loved skiing in the mountains of Colorado and Utah, a skill he acquired as an adult. He reveled in stories of deep snow and big mountains shared by his Colorado grandchildren, and even at 80, he was still lobbying for one more chance to try his luck on the blues and greens of the Rockies.
Jim cherished his large, loving, boisterous extended family. His entire life was rich with family gatherings, including childhood lunches at his grandmother’s house on Signal Mountain (where, despite his grandmother’s insistence on excellent manners, he was alleged to have sipped from a finger bowl); frequent visits to his beloved Aunt Harriette, often accompanied by his big brother and best friend Calder, where Jim would bring the lunch and Calder would bring his appetite and plenty of stories to entertain them; weekend afternoons with Emmy and Franklin, Betsy and Calder, Peg, and all the cousins sitting around the Haney pool, legendary jukebox turned up loud and bucket of KFC in hand; picnics of ham sandwiches, Cheetos, and Orange Crush on his boat anchored in the middle of the Tennessee River; summer weekends at Charlie and Kathy Taylor’s cabin on Watts Bar Lake; lunches with various combinations of family and friends at Bea’s, Marsha’s, the Mount Vernon, or the Epicurean; and large, festive holiday celebrations on Lookout Mountain complete with Mama Dot’s famous eggnog. Throughout his life, Jim took every opportunity to gather with family as often as possible. He adored his friends, but his number one priority was always to be with family, no matter how distant the lineage. His beloved siblings — sister Emmy and brothers Calder and Mike — held a special place in his heart. He loved his wife, daughters, grandchildren, sons-in-law, sister and brothers, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, sisters-in-law and brothers-in-law, cousins and second cousins and third cousins, and all the many members of his extended family. He adored little kids and was always ready to play. There is little doubt that countless children among us, young and not so young, have been the recipients of his famous two-dollar bills. Family was truly the cornerstone of his life.
Jimmy loved being on the water. From an early age, he spent many days and nights cruising Lake Chickamauga, and he imparted a love of the lake to his daughters and grandchildren as well. Many a Chattanooga kid learned to waterski under the patient and kind tutelage of Jimmy Willingham, who always smelled like Coppertone and boat fuel after those long, bright days on the water. Many will remember Jimmy sporting a healthy dose of bright white zinc oxide on his nose, in stark contrast to his brother Calder, who refused to wear any of that suntan lotion, and thus had a contrasting bright red nose to Jimmy’s white one. Days on the lake went hand in hand with side trips to secret blackberry picking honey holes; this would require climbing under or over barbed wire fences and through brambles to reach the special spot that he had scouted out in advance, being careful to avoid no-seeums and no-shoulders and rattle-headed copper moccasins. Bubbling blackberry cobblers, lovingly prepared by Peg using Aunt Harriette’s recipe, soon followed.
He also loved the beach, especially the South Carolina low country. He spent weeks in Garden City and Murrells Inlet every summer, clipboard and whistle in hand, navigating the inlet and its many sandbars in his jon boat stocked with crab traps, nets, shrimp seines, fishing poles, three kinds of bait, five types of sunscreen, coolers of beer and cokes and sandwiches he’d prepared in the wee hours of the morning, and every other tool and gadget one could possibly need for a day in the South Carolina saltwater. Many generations of Willinghams have loved the waters of that coast. South Carolina really was in his blood, and it’s in ours too.
Jim loved being a parishioner of St. Augustine Catholic Church on Signal Mountain. Over the years, he served almost weekly as a Eucharistic Minister and greeter, but Jim also wore the hats of Oktoberfest bratwurst grill master and Christmas caroling organizer-in-chief, among other roles. He was a foundational member of the Catholic community on Signal, and his Catholicism was integral to who he was as a person.
Jimmy will be remembered for his generous nature, his talent for storytelling, and for his uncanny ability to produce, Houdini-style, whatever piece of gear someone might be missing (and probably a couple extra beyond that hidden in his many duffel bags). He was an expert at sending secret envelopes with small stashes of money to any number of people who needed them, often somehow just when they needed it most. He was a master at slipping his credit card to waiters and paying the bill before anyone realized he had done it. He made a point of knowing what people liked and having it ready for them, whether it was a favorite kind of beer or a special dinner. He wrote long, detailed, handwritten letters well beyond the point when most people had moved on to electronic communication. He showed up when people needed him, quietly taking care of things that needed to be done without being asked. He loved his wife, his girls, his grandchildren, his siblings, his giant family, his friends, bird hunting, fishing, riding horses, Peg’s cooking, the Tennessee Vols, gardenias, perfectly ripe peaches, Carolina beach music, ice cold Yuengling, a roaring fire, ice cream, mystery trips, early mornings, feeding the birds, his trusty Labrador Retrievers, long days on the boat, the beach, the inlet, his church, delicious food, and a good laugh. We will miss him forever, but we know that his spirit carries on in all the big and small ways he took care of his family and friends, and in the ways we will continue to do the same for others.
He is survived by his wife of 50 years, Patricia Grover Willingham (Peg); his daughters, Caroline Elizabeth Willingham (Jim Higgins) of Boulder, Colorado; Kathryn Emeline Willingham Gibbs (Gregsby) of Signal Mountain, Tennessee.; Sarah McLain Willingham Ratterman (Stephen), also of Signal Mountain; and grandchildren Willingham Larson Ratterman (Will), Emeline McGowan Gibbs, Margaret McLain Ratterman (Maggie), Tucker Emerson Gibbs, Noah James Higgins, and Banyan McLain Higgins (Bay); his sister, Emeline Elizabeth Willingham Haney (Franklin), of Manalapan, Florida; his brother, Michael McClain Willingham (Elaine), of The Villages, Florida; and many other beloved cousins, nieces, and nephews. He was preceded in death by his father, A. Calder Willingham, Jr., his mother, Mary Alice Hedges Willingham Oakes, and his brother, A. Calder Willingham, III, as well as numerous aunts and uncles who were near and dear to his heart.
A Celebration of Life service will be held at 4:30 p.m. on Thursday, Nov. 7, at in the Alumni Chapel of Baylor School, 171 Baylor School Road, Chattanooga, Tn. 37405.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made to the ALS Association, Hospice of Chattanooga, or Baylor School in memory of Jim Willingham.
Arrangements are entrusted to Lane Funeral Home, 601 Ashland Terrace, Chattanooga, Tn. 37415, www.lanefh.com, 423 877-3524.