Part 3 of Eulogy for Jimmy K. Bunting
Jimmy of St. John

Continued...
If you're looking for one simple phrase to describe our father, it is this.... 'Salt of the Earth'. It means "basic, fundamental goodness". In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells his followers, who are mainly fisherman and other simple people, "Ye are the salt of the earth". That was and is my father. This is how he lived his life. He loved my mother and his family more than he loved his own life. All he needed to be happy was to know that his family was well cared for and well loved. He had no need to serve his ego, no need for status or recognition, no need for material things. He never wanted for more than he needed. He was happy and grateful for the things he had. The only pride he ever exhibited was in seeing his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. To watch him look upon his tribe at family gatherings was to see complete and total bliss.

He lived the American dream. He fought for his country and came home to build a life for his family from very basic and simple beginnings. He was and always will be a great man in my eyes. Truly a member of The Greatest Generation. He gave so much and took nothing. He exemplified 'Basic, fundamental goodness'. Salt of the Earth. 

Today we give the salt back to the earth and his precious soul to God, but we will hold Jimmy from St. John in our hearts forever.

We Love ya Dad.


Part 2 of Eulogy for Jimmy K. Bunting
Jimmy of St. John

Continued...
The Dust Bowl region could not provide for the family, and they moved to Houston during the beginnings of WW2. Dad enlisted and served in the Navy as a Seabee in Okinawa and later in China. He was very proud of his service and of the country he loved dearly. He spoke of the war sparingly but when he did, he never complained about serving. Instead, he saw it as his duty and responsibility. 

[Stan] As a teenager, after landing my first job, I announced that I planned to buy a motorcycle. He asked, "What kind?" Not considering that I was being asked this question by the man who had fought in the war in the Pacific, I foolishly replied, "A Honda." There was a long pause. When he spoke, I thought he was going to kill me. He let me know in no uncertain terms, that I would not be buying anything built in Japan. I understood.

Despite his feelings toward the country of Japan, Dad never harbored ill feelings toward anyone. He accepted everyone for who they were based on the character they displayed. He would help anyone who needed it and stressed to my brother and I that we should do the same. 


Part 1 of Eulogy for Jimmy K. Bunting
Jimmy of St. John
Born February 18, 1927            Deceased July 6, 2018

It was cold in St. John, Kansas on February 18th, 1927. Temperatures were a low of 6 degrees with a high of 37 when Mattie Grace Bunting gave birth to Jimmy. Born in a simple farmhouse to a hardworking but very poor mother and father, Dad's humble beginnings would define him for the rest of his life.

While most of us would think of growing up in the Dust Bowl years of rural Kansas as nothing but hardship, Dad spoke of it as one of the happiest times in his life. His fondest memories were of the period when the family lived with his grandmother on the bottomlands of the Smoky Hill River. On a trip to Kansas when Dad was 73, we found the old rock home they lived in. It was built into the side of a hill facing south to protect from the winds of the Kansas plains and as shelter to prairie fires. The out-buildings for livestock were still standing. As a child, he was free to roam and live as he wished. He was free then as he finally is again now. Hardship was never how he described this time. He spoke of it lovingly and with a passion for his family.

It was here and other parts of Kansas that he and his family managed to survive the Great Depression. The Depression and the Dust Bowl years forged his vision of the world. The shortages and lack of basic needs taught him the value of hard-earned necessities and the discipline to never waste anything. In later years, this drove him to never throw away anything! Never! He would always say, "I might be able to use that for something someday." Danny & I would always retort, "If you can find it." But somehow, he always could. 


Barbara and I extend our thoughts and prayers to the Bunting family. We have great memories of being in the Bunting home when we were much younger. The Bible says the "the memory of the just is blessed".  God bless you and keep you is our earnest prayer.

There was usually a group of us, after school and on weekends, riding motorcycles in the woods, trails, and easements around the Bunting home.  We had a great time getting to know Jim and Joyce Bunting, disturbing and interfering in their lives.

Jim meticulously built and maintained a workshop on the back of his property.  True to his humor he installed a sign on it naming it the “Pout House”.  We were in awe of the collection of tools and the things he could do there…..especially repairing broken motorcycles. Everything he had was well maintained and cared for.  It was a discipline instilled in most of our depression era parents.

I’ve seen Jim sitting at the breakfast table patiently teaching his son to properly prepare an income tax return.  I’ve seen him dispense discipline in a strict manner, as is sometimes required with two young boys.  I’ve also seen him supply a dose of humor and a nod, nod, wink, wink at authority.  Which is also a requirement when raising two boys.  

As we got older we remember congregating with friends at the Bunting household on occasion before going “out”.  As parents ourselves now we understand how much fun it is to have your children want to be around you.  That only comes by being accessible and loving.

As a child of depression era America Jim built, nurtured, and maintained the things important in his life.

As a father, he did the same.  Well done Jimbo….. you nailed it.  Happy trails.

Love,
Mike and Barbara Alexander 


AVIS DE DÉCÈS

Jimmy Keith Bunting

18 février 1927 – 6 juillet 2018

Brookside Funeral Home & Memorial Park

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