Arkansas Online

Godspeed, Uncle John

By Mike Masterson

Across his 26 years as the congressman for the Third District, John Paul Hammerschmidt of Harrison earned a reputation for helping constituents as well as every Arkansan who needed it. No wonder so many of the influential and ordinary folks loved and respected the humble gentleman.

As a World War II pilot and recipient of the Distinguished Flying Cross with three oak clusters, his heart swelled largest when it came to matters affecting veterans. And they knew and often showed their appreciation repeatedly regardless of where they lived. His service during the war was piloting cargo planes across the dangerous Himalayan "Hump" into China.

My intent in this column isn't to rehash his lengthy impressive resume of public service in the days following his death just a month shy of his 93rd birthday. I'd rather speak of the man I knew as my mother's older brother.

My earliest recollections of Uncle John were in the office at the Hammerschmidt Lumber Company off the town square. He would come and go as would his father, Arthur, in managing the daily business affairs. Even then he was always a gentleman and greeted me with a smile when I came to smell the wonders of freshly cut timber.

He and his wife, Ginny, and their son, John Arthur, were always at family gatherings at Christmas. But as a child, my focus was on playing with the cousins, rather than adults and their conversations.

I was a senior in high school in Albuquerque when Uncle John was elected to Congress. He made a trip to visit the family and told Mom he wanted me to have a tuxedo as a graduation gift. "Every young man needs a tux for special times in life," he told us. So he and I went to the Winrock Mall together where he outfitted me with the perfect black tux and a shirt that buttoned with cuff links.

I remember thinking how thoughtful it was that this uncle I really didn't know that well would even think to give such a grand graduation gift to his nephew.

As years passed, I kept up with Uncle John and his determination to preserve the free-flowing Buffalo National River as the country's first to be designated as such. It wasn't an easy battle. His desire to preserve this treasure for generations was met with resistance by any number of property owners in Newton County who sought to preserve the status quo.
But he stood firm on behalf of what he believed to be the best thing for the majority. And in 1972, the scenic Buffalo became America's first national river.

As ranking member of the House Transportation Committee, he made sure his district and our state saw several highway improvement and bridge projects become realities, including Interstate 49, which bears his name today. He also saw to it legislatively the Northwest Arkansas Regional Airport at Highfill came to fruition.

I said upfront this wasn't going to be a resume and here I am rattling off only a few of his major contributions. It's darned near impossible not to.

Suffice it to say John Paul's heart continuously beat in harmony with those of the people. He didn't play self-interested radical politics, choosing to work out differences in a bipartisan manner. He chose never to use his combat decorations in political races.

Successor representatives in the 3rd District tell me the single-most piece of mentoring John Paul gave to each was to never forget that, "they now no longer were Republican or Democrat, they served the Arkansans of both parties equally."

No wonder this insightful and soft-spoken man was continually re-elected by Democrats and Republicans alike until retirement in 1993.

His dedication to helping others never stopped even then. Until his death last Wednesday, he maintained and financed two offices in Harrison, one at Northark College and the other just off the square. There, he and office managers Lisa and Stormy continued to assist those needing a voice. He gave up his formal title, but never stopped using his sterling reputation as a true public servant.

Three summers ago he and I met a couple of times each week in the original Hammerschmidt home near Crooked Creek. It was the house he'd restored to the original condition recalled from his childhood with four siblings, even including joined and sheltered "his and hers" outhouses. We spent precious time reliving his memories and history, both personal and professional. I was amazed by his keen recall of names, events and places. And his devoted son, John Arthur, also blessed with a keen memory, could fill in any blanks.

Together in that home, I could imagine he and Mom and their siblings chasing up and down the narrow staircase, swimming together in Crooked Creek, milking their cow, enjoying their serene grape arbor and sharing close quarters in a loving environment.

So how does a nephew who admired and respected his uncle so much conclude something like this? Godspeed, Uncle John? Endless blessings? Thank you for all you gave to help and improve so many lives? Perhaps it's best to leave it by simply saying you were a fine, honorable man and uncle. And I join thousands in wishing you all of this and more.

You are the finest example of the remarkable difference one relatively selfless man and dedicated public servant can make in this troubled world. You will be remembered in just that way.