Ben L. Blackburn, Jr.

Generally, we think of our legacy as exclusively forthcoming, something we will leave behind when we're gone.  But consider that your legacy is more than accomplishments.  It's shaped constantly by every person whose path crosses yours and with every decision you make.  It isn't celebrating with people on their best days or even supporting them on their worst.  It's different for every person you encounter.  Your legacy is everything that's "you", that is put into the world to resonate for generations to come.

Delving into who Ben Blackburn was, and choosing words powerful enough to convey his spirit and honor his soul, proved challenging.  I intended to share a few lines about the remarkable impressions Ben L. Blackburn, Jr. left upon the world, keeping it short, as I promised my Aunt Pearl.  However, embracing the truth necessary to convey a true depiction hinders brevity.  Moreover, it's practically impossible since truth is so relative.  There are no absolutes; Truth is relative to perspective.  At the most basic level, illustrating who a person is at their core is complicated by perspective.  There's no one truth, it simply depends on who is asked.

Ben Blackburn was many things to many people, substantiating that vast contradictions can coexist.  Reviewing remarkable impressions of Ben's life, it became clear that regardless what words describe them, remarkable impressions lose their luster, while the multitude of insignificant experiences shine brightly. These experiences determine how a person's essence become words.  The words become stores; WE all become stories.  How Ben will genuinely be remembered, will be determined by perspective.  I hope to tell enough of Ben's story from my perspective to illuminate the lasting impact he's left us and the legacy that will transcend all his remarkable accomplishments.

Benjamin Lewis Blackburn, Jr., 77, of Lometa, Texas, passed away on July 31, 2025 after an extended health crisis.  Born on September 17, 1947 in Palacios, Texas, Ben was preceded in death by his parents, Ben, Sr. and Ruth; his first wife, Kathy; brothers, Jerod (Sonny) Viets (and sister-in-law, Evelyn) and Edward (Bubba) Blackburn; sisters, Barbara (Blackburn), Myrtle (Tiny) Holloway (and brother-in-law, Clyde), Patricia Smith (and brother-in-law, JB), and Benita Thompson (and brother-in-law, OB); brother-in-law, Eugene Zemanek; nieces, Catherine Curtis and Sharon Ruth Pegram; great nephew, Stephen David Vance and nephews, Johnny Clyde Holloway and Jerod Holloway.

He is survived by his devoted wife of 43 years, Vivian Bohning Blackburn; children, Kimberly (& Bobby) Davis, Benjamin L. Blackburn III, Brandon L. (& Lacey) Blackburn, and Melissa Bautista; sister, Pearl B. Zemanek; ten grandchildren, eleven great-grandchildren and numerous nieces and nephews.

The committal service will take place at 2 pm on August 8, 2025, at Hawley Cemetery, Blessing, Matagorda County, Texas.

Benjaming Lewis Blackburn, Jr. was the youngest child of Ben Blackburn, Sr and Ruth Jordan Blackburn.  Ben Sr doted on Ben Jr and Ben Jr idolized his father.  He was devastated when he lost his father while he was in high school.  Ben Jr was a well-loved child and it's uncertain if his father, mother, or his four older sisters spoiled him more.  (Aunt Rose can safely be ruled out.)  After graduating from Palacios High School in 1966, Ben went to work for Bay City Drilling Company, which was later acquired by Richard's Drilling Company.  He had a strong work ethic, and was invaluable from an employer's standpoint.  He spent the majority of his career in top oilfield supervisory positions for less than a handful of companies.  Although he could be quite rigid in his expectations, most people who worked for, or with, Ben would say he might not ask nicely, but he didn't ask anyone to do things he hadn't done or wouldn't do.  Some may not have liked him, but they respected him.  As a result of the oil crash in the late 1980's, Richard's began a dissolution process and Ben set up rigs as they were sold, often traveling and working abroad.

Despite his strong work ethic, balancing work and home life was not a concern for Ben.  He trusted Vivian would take care of whatever needed to be addressed.  Vivian is an exceptionally adept multitasker and natural homemaker, although she must have occasionally wished Ben didn't trust her so much.

From the moment Kimberly and Benjamin joined Ben and Vivian in lighting their unity candle when they married in January 1981, Vivian cared for them and their home with competence, sticking to her guns even when denying cake resulted in Daisy brandishing.  By the time Brandon and Melissa completed their family, Vivian was an expert at juggling the household, the children's schoolwork and extracurriculars, friends, discipline, her career, AND accommodating Ben's preference that his jeans be starched heavily enough to "stand" on their own, without having to cook the starch on the stove.  Ben didn't worry about home, because he knew Vivian would handle every situation flawlessly.  He was a pretty good judge of character.

Ben was witty and often funny, but his words could also be quite venomous if he was crossed.  His presence could make a person certain no one would dare mess with them while concurrently intimidating them into hiding.  He was intelligent, and often charming, although not always open-minded.  His rigid expectations of people and his aversion to anything interfering with those expectations made interactions with him occasionally difficult. Ben's mastery of the silent treatment was second probably only to Granny Blackburn.  If he was angry with someone, it wasn't a secret.  Still, if he cared about them, no one else was allowed to mistreat or speak ill of them.  He was a master of sarcasm, yet he was fiercely loyal and had many lifelong friends.

Granny Blackburn often called Ben a "skinflint," a term which caused me to have to confer with Webster to discover skinflint is "a person who hates spending money."  Growing up, I often heard Ben was "tight as a frog's [*derriere] and that's waterproof."

Neither descriptive is completely on the money but, negative connotations aside, they're understandable.  Ben was never greedy though.  He was more prudent and value conscious than tight.  He enjoyed nice things and paid for quality, believing those things should be cared for properly to last, rather than easily replaced.  His financial mindset was more about principle than saving or spending.  He simply didn't believe in frivolity and didn't want to be taken advantage of.

Ben frequently harassed those he liked.  Once, Aunt Evelyn arrived home from church, and was greeted with, "Well, HELLO, Elephant!"  She responded, "Well, looka-here!  Sonny wouldn't come to church with me this morning and look who showed up!  The Devil himself!"  Everyone laughed and laughed.  Upon leaving, Kimberly, who was about 7 then, skipped along to the truck, shouting back, "Bye, Uncle Sonny! Bye, Aunt Elephant!" Before she landed another step, Ben snatched her up, explaining explicitly she was never to disrespect Aunt Evelyn or any adult.

Ben frequently said, "Do as I say, not as I do," but it wasn't said in arrogance.  He never claimed perfection, even though it seemed he often expected it from others.  Kimberly instantly wailed remorseful apologies and Aunt Evelyn graciously accepted.  Lasting lessons were imparted that day.  Primarily, children should always obey their parents' "Do as I say..." rule because what parents do can mean big trouble for kids!

Ben valued hard work and expected honesty.  He had a mischievous tendency, but expected responsible behavior from those around him.  When Benjamin was about 9, he talked about some kids leaving school and walking to the store.  Afterward, he had a missing classroom assignment and when asked where he'd been, he repeatedly said he didn't know.  Even though Benjamin denied it, Ben thought he'd been with those kids and gave him a whipping, not for skipping school, but for lying.  Ben's parenting style was sometimes confusing for his children, nevertheless he was determined to instill values in them.  It was later learned Benjamin had been in the clinic.  Despite (or perhaps a result of) the unwarranted punishment, Ben's children developed an aversion to lying.

Ben loved his children, but he seemed to like them best before they reached double digits.  He would never be considered a "girls' Dad" by today's hipster standards, but Kimberly and Melissa were both Daddy's girls early on.  Melissa was distraught once when Ben took the boys for haircuts and left her behind.  In protest, she decided to give herself a flattop, nearly cutting her ear off in the process.  Kimberly tried to assure her that soon she'd be glad not to go to the barbershop.  Ben took her to Billy Jalufka until she was ten!

Often a walking contradiction, Ben would quickly wield a belt if he thought it fitting, yet he was also markedly protective. When Brandon was about two, Vivian arrived home, greeted by Brandon's wooden rocking horse sailing out the front door, bouncing across the driveway.  Brandon had been "bucked" from the horse into the fireplace.  Luckily he hadn't been seriously hurt.  Miraculously the horse survived its airborne adventure, but Ben, upset that Brandon had gotten hurt, wouldn't allow the horse back into the house immediately.  This protective demonstration points out Ben's clandestine soft spot.  After some begging, he returned the horse to Brandon, which Brandon incidentally named "Bricks."

Despite sending an abundance of mixed signals, Ben loved his family and friends, his dogs, and his cars.  He tried to share his passion for old cars and hot rods with his children, and they readily joined him for joy rides, being particularly fond of his '33 Chevrolet Coupe.  Ben was a skillful mechanic and had an eye for detail.  He was meticulously organized in the garage, with his tools, and his vehicles.  The kids didn't share that particular aptitude and they tried to avoid being Ben's "gofer" in the garage, finding it difficult to duplicate his degree of order.  Vivian told of moving Ben's truck once when he wasn't home.  Because Ben was so particular, she took great care to return it exactly as it was, down to each tire mark.  Still, Ben stated that whoever had driven his truck must've taken a corner to fast, because the tools in the toolbox had shifted.  There was no getting anything past him!  If he didn't mention something, you could bet it wasn't because he didn't notice; he was just letting you make it, or letting you sweat it!

Ben once shared a story about his youth with Kimberly about his Aunt Pearl getting upset because, long story short, his Dad gave him permission to shoot her turkey.  Kimberly then told him about a turkey she raised that she had wanted to shoot because it tried to kill her.  The image of Kimberly having to run for her life from that dang turkey, tickled Ben reminding Kimberly when she was a kid, she could always tell when something struck Ben as funny.  He'd get an impish twinkle in his eyes, even if he didn't laugh out loud.

Perspective determines significance - 

In the past, Ben laughing about that stupid turkey terrorizing her, would've hurt Kimberly's feelings.  Yet when he gave a slight chuckle about the attack turkey, she was elated!  That turkey broke the ice and during subsequent conversations, he shared family trivia she'd never heard.  Once, half-jokingly, Kimberly told Ben she was going to write a book one day with the family history she'd learned.  Later, tongue in cheek, she said something to the effect that she still didn't know what she wanted to be when she grew up!  Ben responded, "Well, Kimberly, it's a little late!  You're going to run out of time." She laughed, but after a few moments of silence, Ben said, "I thought you were going to write a book?"  laughing, Kimberly said she just might.  he then said stoically, "Well, you need to."  Describing that exchange as a "heart-to-heart" may be a stretch, but to Kimberly, the poignancy of those few words in that moment was considerable.  That's the extraordinary thing about words - they mean nothing and everything at the same time - Their importance is relative to perspective.

While Ben wasn't the absolute worst patient, he certainly couldn't be considered the easiest to care for.  Vivian was meticulous with his care, and while he would often grouch and complain about some of her methods or "rules," he made it abundantly clear (to everyone but Vivian), that nobody could compare to her.  Melissa and Kimberly occasionally were entertained by "accidentally eavesdropping" when Ben welcomed Vivian home from work.  The conversation usually consisted of Ben voicing the day's grievances, recounting how Melissa or Kimberly didni't do something or how they did it wrong.  They found their father's slightly exaggerated recounts quite humorous.  His perspective on dirty rice and Mexican dogs once had them in tears from laughing.  Although Vivian was the only one who knew what she was doing, that didn't stop Ben from trying to circumvent some of the "rules," (and enlist unsuspecting accomplices.)  Shortly after he'd returned home from a hospitalization, Kimberly was unknowingly suckered while visiting.  Ben had some diet peach teas that Kimberly knew were his, but she was unaware he was on a water only restriction and got him one when he asked her to.  As she started pouring it over Ben's ice, they heard Vivian and Aly arrive home.  Ben abruptly told Kimberly that was enough tea and she could pour some water on top.  It wasn't until Ben told her to move that tea over by her that she realized she'd been had! "Daddy, you're going to get me in trouble!  Mom's going to be mad at me!"  Ben found her reaction humorous.  Eyes twinkling, he sipped down some of his tea and told her "no, she won't be mad, just pour some more of that water!"  Kimberly felt like a guilty little kid trying to avoid eye contact with Vivian when she came in!  Learning her lesson, anytime he'd mention Snickers, Kimberly couldn't' make an exit fast enough, but she often wondered who he'd roped into bringing him one?

I'm grateful for the insight I gained from spending some time with Daddy as an adult, although I hated seeing him sick.  Witnessing firsthand the sincere affection, pride, and appreciation communicated when he spoke of his family to people on the phone, his nurse, a physical therapist, to basically anyone other than them, was both gratifying and humbling.  Seeing him beam with pride and admiration when he acknowledged Vivian's dedication or spoke of my Baby Sister's accomplishments; or when he'd recount part of a phone conversation with my Aunt Pearl; or talked about what my brothers had going on; or mentioned one of the grandkids (even if he didn't call them all by name) produced a profound peace and gratitude for the opportunity to better understand my father.

As a child, I believed my Daddy knew everything and could do anything and if he was on my side, I was invincible too.  Even after I was grown, if asked to describe my father, my depiction was a huge bull of a man who was larger than life - someone to be revered and feared - and it took me forty-plus years to realize the exaggeration of my description.

For everyone who loved him, saying goodbye isn't easy.  Ben Blackburn was sharp-toungued with a quick wit; mischievous, yet responsible; protective and loyal; demanding, yet charming; intelligent, but set in his ways; hard working and funny; complex and contradictory - proof that truth isn't always absolute.  Relative to perspective, completely contradictory things often exist in the same place at the same time.  Words can't completely convey a person's essence, but they combine, blend and merge, into a true depiction and a remarkable story.  I hope some part of Ben's story becomes something each of us will share, allowing his lessons to have a lasting impact upon our world.  Ben Blackburn was a BIG presence!  He will be missed! My prayer today is that grief be brief so when he randomly bombards our thoughts, sadness doesn't prevent us from realizing and sharing his legacy.  I hope we recall the impish fire in his eyes when he'd smile and allow that to coax one from us.