I’ve known Jackson since he was a little boy. I played co-ed with his parents when I was younger, and his mom played ball for my dad even before that. If you’ve ever been to the Dumas ballfields in the summertime, you’ve seen Jackson. He loves football, but baseball is his thing. He gets it honest.
Jackson was blessed with parents who have raised him and his brother at the ballfields. The smell of a dirty leather glove, sweat rolling down your back, and a strawberry on your leg from that game winning slide into home. Those late nights having to beat a team twice to win the tournament because you fell in the losers bracket earlier in the day. Laying under the shade tree with your head on your bat bag waiting on the next game. That’s Jackson. That’s what he loves.
Jackson’s love for the game was passed down to him from one little high-spirited man who just so happened to be his grandpa. I don’t remember a time seeing Mr. Dale that he wasn’t grinning. He was the happiest man I’ve ever seen, and he was at the ballfields (along with his wife, Mrs. Ruth) anytime Jennifer, Mark or either of the boys played. I can still remember walking up to the gate at the Dumas fields and seeing him grinning at my dad and I, and quickly catching up on how life was going before heading in to watch the games. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.
Mr. Dale passed away 4 years ago. From the stories I’ve heard, Jackson was his right-hand man, his shadow. Jackson’s mama said that’s the first thought he had when planning his senior pictures- was to take some with his grandpa’s headstone.
Mr. Dale left a legacy that’s living on through his children and grandchildren. Jackson is a perfect example, and carrying it on well.
Here are Jackson and his family’s favorites: