 Sometimes an entire lifetime can go by
unnoticed. We see people in passing every day and never think that they
too have stories and triumphs and tragedy. But we all have a story to
be written and told. Each of us have memories
that will end with our passing if they are not shared with others
before
they are forgotten.
Today, there are only a handful World War One Veterans to march in the parade, and sadly we can say the same of World War II Vets in an other generation. There are so many heroes. So many stories to hear and share. I can not go without sharing this story. This is my Father's Story. Someday there may be no one else to tell it. And so I'll share it with you. John G. Clayton was born in March of 1932. He was the thirteenth child born to Angie Predmore Clayton. Nearly 20 years separated him and his oldest brother, who he never met until his 12th year of life. Times were tough then, the depression was devastating to everyone, but the poorest of the poor were living on nothing but the rotted fruits and vegetables that the fruit vendors tossed into the dump when he could no longer sell them. John was a real scavenger and was always getting a meal somehow for his family. A loaf of bread and a pot full of boiled vegetables was a blessing in those days and they were thankful. Sometimes this meal was all they would have to eat for days. Going to bed hungry was common. As John grew up he took on trades. He worked as a brick hauler, busting his back to learn the ways of a mason. He'd bring home the money to keep a shattered family together and tend to the needs of a sickly mother. He rarely if ever made it to school, because education was something that life would teach him, not a classroom. John worked as an altar boy for many years and nearly joined the priesthood when he was of age. His first bike and first car were bought for him by his priest who later made John his personal driver and assistant. John's love for the church was fueled by the kindness of his priest who always guided John in a righteous path. Around the age of twenty, John met his wife to be, Shirley Ann Runion who would marry him and eventually go to Germany after John joined the Army in 1950. John stayed in Germany for 4 years and served as a tank driver and personal Jeep driver to the base's General. He returned home to have two children. John Patrick, his oldest son, and James Kelly who died in 1984 due to lung failure from complications of Cerebral Palsy. He was 21. John became a master mason, learning his trade all throughout his early teens and into his adult years after leaving the Army. Many homes in our area were built by him. Many driveways and patios, some nearly 40 years old stand as a memorial to his craftsmanship. John joined Ciba Geigy Corporation in 1974 and remained there until 1984 when he suffered several severe heart attacks. He retired early due to this disability and became active in community affairs, running for and winning several elections for Lakehurst Borough Council. He turned down the offer to run for Mayor several times, stating that a Councilman's vote always counts and a mayor's is generally needed only to break the ties and oversee meetings. He enjoyed being needed more than being a figurehead and he retired from council undefeated after nearly a decade of service. John served on many committees including the police, public works and budgeting and finance. He was always considered to have common sense and was a true advocate for the people. In July of 1998 John finally succumbed to cancer after a 7 month battle. As per his wishes, he was cremated and buried by his youngest son James near the town he called home for over 45 years. I miss my Father. We did a few great things together. We played golf in Myrtle Beach, walked the Mall in Washington, DC, went to a few stock car races and other such things, but we never got to Las Vegas like we wanted. Toward the end, I was able to get him one last time to Atlantic City, just days before he died. It was the best I could do for Dad. Time has a way of white washing our brains. I can't picture my father as a young man, but when I was in my teens he was only forty. The same age I am now. Now I think of all the seasons that have passed and all the other things we could have done. But my Father always said that you should do things while you can, because the day will come when doing simple things become impossible. Looking back, this was all so true and so sad. My Father was very strong and independent all his life, but in his last days he graciously accepted our help with modesty and pride. This page is for him. I hope someone reads it. I sit here in tears thinking of Dad and the events of the last few months and only wish I had more memories. Life is so short, it is but a blink in time. When we are young we think we are invincible. When we are older we learn that we are vulnerable. And if we are lucky, when we die we are remembered.
John G. Clayton passed away on July 26th, 1998 and now lays at rest with his youngest Son, James Kelly Clayton at Roadside Cemetery, near the Eastern border of Lakehurst. My Father is missed by my Mother Shirley, my Wife Tracey and myself. I want to thank the Mayor and Council for this thoughtful notice of my Father's many years of public service. For those of you who remember my Father and to those who served on council with him, you knew a truly good man who loved his community. |
On Sept. 17th, 1998 the Lakehurst Borough
Council made a Proclamation in the memory of John G. Clayton,
my Father who was a Councilman here for nearly a decade. My father was
proud to have been a public servant and he was responsible for much of
the growth and improvements of the Borough of Lakehurst during his many
terms. 
Whereas, the Borough of
Lakehurst mourns the recent passing of John G. Clayton, and