REVIEWS & READER COMMENTS
Blue Ink Review
In this delightful memoir, Jimmy R. Lewis does for the Ozarks what Garrison Keillor does for Lake Wobegon. Motivated by a desire to preserve the rich sense of place he experienced growing up there, and to inspire others to do likewise, Lewis chronicles the characters and events of two small neighboring Missouri towns from 1907-1960.
Lewis’s storytelling ability becomes apparent as early as the first sentence when he writes, “Our neighbor Argyl Haynes used to say that if any of his eleven children squealed a tire within thirty miles of Wheaton, he would hear about it the next morning.” By chapter two, one can navigate the feed room of the Farmers Exchange, “pronounced ex-change, with emphasis on the ‘ex.’” And by the time one finishes this collection, one feels transported to the Ozarks, where summertime brings jar flies sounding “like a bad bass fiddle player sawing a grating note."
Unlike Keillor’s fictional stories, Lewis’s tales are true. Personal memory and research provide the fodder for these 31 vignettes supplemented with photos and endnotes, and in a locale where croquet remained a popular but all-male pastime, the daily rituals of small town rural life come alive. The region, however, was not immune from external perils. Effects of the Depression and wartime service impact the area, and these more sobering stories temper the lighter fare. While not all the tales may seem individually significant, collectively they form a tapestry of community life that shows how its inhabitants confronted events both mundane and extraordinary. Throughout, Lewis’s colloquial style lends authenticity without sounding hokey.
“No matter how much you achieve, it’s likely that you won’t be remembered very long,” the author reflects. In spite of, or perhaps in light of, that sentiment, Lewis has compiled an appealing and enduring love letter to Midwestern small town life of yesterday. Readers will savor Listening to the Jar Flies.
Missouri Historical Society
Like many small towns in America, Wheaton and Rocky Comfort, Missouri, are quiet today; most of the businesses that lined their streets have been shuttered for decades. In his memoir of growing up in rural southwest Missouri, Jimmy R. Lewis uses local newspaper archives and childhood memories to bring a bygone era back to life.
Using detailed vignettes, he provides an intimate account of small-town life in 1950s Missouri, recounting the people, places, and events of his youth. Thoughtful recollections of beloved residents, eccentric characters, and memorable events like the Great Banana War of 1953, when three grocery stores in Wheaton engaged in a memorable price war against each other, bring local history to life.
Clarion Review
Five Stars (out of Five)
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Never denigrating or stereotyping, Lewis is a talented storyteller, offering an affectionate portrait of life in the Missouri Ozarks. Listening to the Jar Flies: Growing Up in Wheaton and Rocky Comfort is an affectionate look at twentieth-century residents and events in two small Missouri Ozark towns. Jimmy R. Lewis neatly reaches as far back as 1907 for stories about his family and other “very practical, often comical, but extremely wise people” that populate this southwestern corner of the state.
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Lewis is a talented storyteller. Reading these accounts is like being at a family reunion, hearing lively tales – preferably told outdoors in late summer, with the titular jar flies, or cicadas, buzzing in the trees – about the feats and foibles of folks you dimly remember as neighbors, ancestors, or teachers. Lewis dishes up a generous dose of nostalgia for those baby boomers who grew up in small-town America, and who will perhaps not-so-fondly remember how they couldn’t get away with any youthful wild behavior thanks to a network of surrogate parents ratting them out before they even returned home.
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Gentle humor is a seasoning that Lewis liberally applies. There are heaping helpings of stories about local eccentrics, including official “Town Loafer” Ephron Decker and his impressive dedication to the art of avoiding manual labor; the antics of sparring grocers during the Great Banana War; and several pages about hermit bachelor Palo Stewart, his unique sartorial style, and his habit of wearing dentures only while eating (after Palo had dined, he would pop his false teeth out, lick them clean, and deposit them back into his shirt pocket).
These are not corny portraits of rubes; rather, they are unvarnished descriptions of some very original, very independent-minded folks, and Lewis takes care not to denigrate or stereotype. The many photographs in the book are a great help in keeping track of this large cast of characters. While much of the book has a folksy, humorous tone, there are also serious chapters describing the lean years of the Great Depression and specific tragedies that occurred in these rural towns; these sections are recounted in more journalistic fashion. It is enlightening to read about the community gardens and relief canning factories that kept town residents fed and employed during the 1930s. Lewis offers several chapters about hometown heroes, like the doctors who provided medical care to families that couldn’t pay for it, railroad workers and organizers beaten up or killed during labor disputes, and local merchants who took care of customers in many ways that didn’t fill up their cash registers.
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Readers who are familiar with this part of Missouri and its tough hill-country folks will savor this book the most, but even if one’s background is far removed from the Ozarks, this book has so much interesting material that it will appeal to anyone who enjoys regional history, homespun tales about small town life, or a very rich biography.
– Rachel Jagareski
Kirkus Media Review
A collection of memories and narrative vignettes that chronicles the vibrant people who populated rural Wheaton and Rocky Comfort, Missouri, between 1907 and 1960.
Lewis paints, in alternating broad and fine strokes, a picture of a small segment of the rural United States through difficult and prosperous eras. He has an eye for satisfying detail, and he thoroughly catalogs a colorful cast of characters(a bevy of endnotes that reference hundreds of local news articles, periodicals, and more). The author uses memoir and journalistic reporting to show how his personal history maps onto his neighbors’ in two towns where there were no true strangers. The titular jar flies are said to sound like “a bad bass fiddle player sawing a grating note,” a constant buzzing presence that nearly suggests itself as the rural drama’s Greek chorus.
Some of the most rewarding sections of the book explain the inner workings of Wheaton and Rocky Comfort’s agrarian systems, including the processes of supply bartering and community support for the infirm or downtrodden. At one point, Lewis fondly remembers a man named Mack Harader who’d given him a ride in his truck as a boy, and who was supported in financial and moral ways by his neighbors after a paralyzing stroke left him nearly immobile.
Plenty of action abounds in stories about a grizzled cowboy, a fighter pilot, and other archetypically unyielding and tough players. The sheer volume of people tends at times to dilute the book’s sense of singular storyline. Instead, this set of tales should be enjoyed with the same patience and deliberation that one might have when listening to the flowing oral histories of family members on a back porch. Like such stories, this collection is meandering at times but rich in visual detail and warm language. While not a strictly journalistic endeavor, this book will still provide readers with a comprehensive look at this rural region’s history.
A slow, sweet homage to two Midwestern towns.
I loved your book. Clarence Rodgers, the blacksmith was my Grandfather. When I was little I thought he was the biggest and tallest person in the whole world. I didn’t graduate from Wheaton until 1966 but I still recognized a lot of people in your book. Great job.
– Brenda Senseney
IN LISTENING TO THE JAR FLIES Jimmy honored the people in his stories with his humor. His love for his Midwest roots was always evident. I am grateful for this book.
– Modena Hostetler
Even though I am not from Missouri, I relate to many of the incidents described by Jimmy Lewis. A good book!
– Betha Chesser
