John C. Sykes

John C. Sykes of Heber Springs died Monday, March 3, at the age of 82. He was first and foremost a kind man. He loved deeply and cared about others with a steadfast sincerity that was apparent to everyone. No one who met him doubted his fidelity to his friends and family. This love extended to many other things. Above all he loved the outdoors. He was most happy when he was among the trees and flowers of his home. He picked the spot he would place his home as a very young man and never tired of looking out over the tall, strong pines that framed that view. The vista in front of his bluff-edge home is edged above with wooded hills and sliced below by a small but raucous waterfall. One of the few regrets at the end of his life was how much he would miss that scene. He loved flowers and poetry. He loved history and football. He loved women and dancing the waltz. He loved his wife, Mary Jo, who died before him. Most of all he loved his children and their children. He loved his daughter Valerie Jane Mauldin and her husband Jerry; he cherished his granddaughter Devon Jennifer Carlson and her husband Keith and had great affection for his great-grandson Liam. He loved his daughter Pamela Diane Sykes and so greatly appreciated the tender care she gave to him during the final years of his life. He loved his son, John C. Sykes Jr. and his son's love, Caroline. He loved John Jr.'s children, Sydney Anna Bearden and her husband Cole. He found his newest love when his great-grandchild, a beautiful girl, Riley June Bearden, was recently born. He loved his second namesake, John C. Sykes III, a young man whose temperament becomes more like his grandfather's everyday. He loved Cheryl Irene Leffew, the mother of Sydney and John III. He loved his father, mother and siblings, no matter how much they vexed him. He always spoke lovingly of his older brother Cass, his partner in crime. He was a Worshipful Master in the Masons for many years and often sought out as a Past Master. He drove big trucks and cut down trees with a blazing chainsaw and planted flowers. He wrote wonderful and poignant poetry. He devoured dense histories and biographies and read every Zane Grey book he could find. He taught his son the way a man could and should cry. He never complained and always listened to everyone, never failing to comfort and encourage them. He was one of "the better angels of our nature"