Ernest Jackson Obituary

ERNEST JACKSON

RUTHERFORDTON-Ernest Caldwell Jackson, age 78, of Rutherfordton, died at home after an extended illness.

He was born on Nov. 2, 1937, in Indian Land, Oceola Community, Lancaster, S.C., to the late Harold B. Jackson and Ruby Ashley Jackson.

At the request of the family there will be no visitation or services.

Online condolences may be made at www.harrelsonfuneralhome.com.

Arrangements by Harrelson Funeral and Cremation Services.

To plant trees in memory, please visit the Sympathy Store.

Published by Shelby Star on Jul. 7, 2016.

Memories and Condolences
for Ernest Jackson

8 Entries

Johnna Smith

July 9, 2016

Memories. I will always remember the visits at Nannie and Grandaddy Jackson's house. Uncle Ernest was always smiling and laughing with us. He would sit and talk with everyone and we all knew it wouldn't be long before he and Grandaddy would be out at the shop working on something. I also remember the visits at the home in Buford and swimming in the pool when we were young. My daughter Samantha and my granddaughter Makenna and I went to visit him and Rose about a year ago and he had not changed. He was still the same Uncle Ernest I will always remember. We talked about old times and we walked with him around the house looking at the beautiful flowers Rose so diligently takes care of and pride in. He pointed out the garden area and showed us some of his handiwork around the house. He reminded me of Granddaddy Jackson. My heart goes out to you all and I hope the memories that you have will comfort you and make you smile even though I know your heart is broken. Much love to you All.

Sheri Brasington

July 9, 2016

Ernest, I am sorry that I never got to meet you. Your daughter Betsy loves you and has so much respect for you. Your daughter is a very kind, loving incredible person. I know that you will be missed, Please check.in on my friend from time to time. I hope you now R.I.P.

Rita Huffman

July 8, 2016

Ernest was always nice to me and we had some great conversations and many good laughs. My heart goes out to Rus, Suzy, Ash, and the entire Jackson family.

Betsy Craig

July 8, 2016

I sat on for some time knowing that in that small window of time something really momentous had happened, at least for me. My shadow finally caught up with his. Or maybe he slowed down and let me catch up. All I know is Daddy's Girl got to sit quietly in the swing with her Daddy and have his undivided attention, and pure love. That tiny piece of time is a jewel in my life that I won't ever forget. I love you Daddy.

Originally written: 6/24/2015 (Father's Day)

Betsy Craig

July 8, 2016

These machines are huge as a whole, and when they had to be relocated, they had to be moved using cranes and dollies, and a whole lot of attention to detail and direction. THIS was my daddy's job. He became an expert, because he settles for nothing less. This man, with no experience in this field, became so skilled at what he did that when these machines needed to be moved, the cotton mills would contact the company my daddy worked for and ask for him by name, accepting no one in his place. Eventually he took a leap of faith and began his own company moving and relocating textile machines. Until all our jobs were sent over-seas, causing the U.S. cotton mill industry to close down, he was extraordinarily successful.

Daddy's commitment to hard work did come at a cost. From the time I was in 3rd grade, until well after I graduated, his job called for him to be away from home for 2-week periods at a time. This was hard on Daddy's Girl, and it reeked a lot of havoc on the amount of time I got to spend with him. He NEVER sat down except to eat a meal. Looking back now as an adult, I know on those weekends he was home, he must have felt he had so much man's house work/repairs/upkeep & yard work, automobile upkeep, etc., to do. He NEVER STOPPED.
So on those weekends he was home, I had to squeeze all the Daddy I could get out those weekends. So where he went, I went. For his one stride, my little legs were making two or three strides to try to keep up. It was tough work being Daddy's little shadow.

On a Sunday afternoon about 16 years or so ago, Daddy was at my house (formally his/our childhood home). I was sitting outside in the swing and he walked over and sat down in the swing with me. We just sat there and slowly swung and talked about nothing in particular for about 20 minutes. Just the two of us, no one else around. Then he slowly got up and proceeded to find some kind of work that needed to be done.

Betsy Craig

July 8, 2016

Ode to a Hard Working Father
By Betsy Jackson Craig, A.K.A. Daddy's 1st Lil' Girl

"It's Father's Day. What's on my mind? Well, I miss my Daddy. He no longer lives very close and I can't drive far right now because of health issues. And because he has extensive health issues right now, not to mention his age, he can't drive down here right now. In all actuality he probably never will make this trip again, and that makes me sad. I know he is in the very stormy winter of his life. I hope to be able to go see him before he crosses over. What I can say about my Daddy, Ernest C. Jackson, is that he is both a Character, as well as A Man of Character. No, he isn't perfect. None of us are. But he always did the best at everything that he knew how to do. When we three kids were little, we were growing up in an era when a daddy's whole responsibility was to bring home the bacon. Their job was to make sure there was enough income to take care of the needs of the family. I can say, and I'm sure my sister and brother agree: our Daddy took his responsibility very seriously. I've never known a harder working person in my life than my Daddy.

Though he didn't go to college, my daddy very smart man. He ultimately ended up going to work for a U.S. based German company when I was only in the 3rd grade (1969). He started at entry-level, OTJ training. His job was moving winders, spinners, and coners in cotton mills throughout the Southeast. That's no ride in the park kind of job. It's a tough, hard, and at times, very dangerous job. If you don't know what winders, spinners, and coners are, you're probably not from the South and/or you're a lot younger than myself. Winders, spinners, and coners are just what the name implies: they are machines that wind cotton fiber, spinning the cotton, then winding it into thread and onto cones; the machines were originally operated by U.S. cotton mill employees the livelihood of many Southern families.

Edna Jackson

July 6, 2016

Rose, so sorry for your loss, our thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. God Bless you all.

Tom and Edna Jackson, Monroe, NC

Roberta Jackson

July 6, 2016

I love you, Uncle Ernest. I'm so sad. I already miss you. I'm so glad you were my uncle. I know Daddy rushed out to greet you when you arrived. Now you two can swim in ponds, eat fat muscadines, catch fish, dam creeks, climb trees, and have adventures again. I'm glad you're with Dad. But I miss you.

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