James Blaine Hewes was born to Raymond Charles Hewes & Stella Louise (Adam) Hewes on November 6, 1928 in Ponca City, Oklahoma.

He passed from this life on May 11, 2023 in Spring Branch, Texas at the age of 94.

James was preceded in death by his parents and his wife, Dolores Marie Hewes in 2016.

He is survived by his daughters, Diana Marie Hewes Johnson of Houston; Amy Ann Hewes Piper & husband, Dean Piper of Spring Branch; grandchildren, Andrew Hewes and wife Jessica Hewes of Lago Vista, Christopher Piper of San Antonio, Katrina Piper and partner Ryan Pearcy of San Antonio, Kayla Piper of San Antonio, and Amanda Johnson of Houston; great-grandchildren, Oliver Hewes and Austin Hewes.

James Hewes often said that adopting his daughters, Diana and Amy, was the best decision he ever made. In his life, he made many sacrifices to give his daughters things he'd never enjoyed as a child himself. Most especially, love, affection and refrigerators!

James was born in 1928, the fourth of five children who grew up under the cloak of the Great Depression, the Oklahoma Dust Bowl, and Oklahoma Prohibition. His French-speaking mother, whose family migrated from Quebec, Canada to Sioux City, Iowa to Ponca City, Oklahoma, fought the obstacles of these circumstances by bootlegging. One of James' earliest memories was seeing Pretty Boy Floyd sitting on a stool in his mother's kitchen, flicking the curtains to peek out of the small window to check if the Feds were outside. Another local bootlegger had asked James' mother to help hide Pretty Boy Floyd from law enforcement, to which she said clearly, "No."

Such was the childhood of James, living along the train tracks in small town Oklahoma, pulling his little red wagon at the age of five, going around the neighborhood offering his help to neighbors in order to make money for his struggling family. He learned at a young age what GenZ kids today call a side hustle.

When he was old enough to drive, he transported beverages to a speak-easy in Ponca called Thad's BBQ. It was then that he learned Thad was serving beer from the fountain bar handles, not soft drinks. Thad's thriving business suddenly made sense.

While still in high school, James drove to his father Raymond's residence in California to seek his signed permission to join the marines. Raymond was an accomplished man himself, having been a German translator during World War I, and then later moving on to a trucking and transportation service. Raymond refused to allow his 17 year old son to join the marines, mostly out of fear of his mother's reaction, and opted instead to give James a job driving trucks in California. The truck driving experience gave James a solid skill he then used as a marine when he was finally old enough to enlist at 18. James served in WWII and in the Korean War and received the Korean Service Metal, using all his childhood experience as the perfect hustle with fellow soldiers: He drove the transport vehicles and would ferret out alcohol suppliers overseas to bring whiskey, vodka – whatever they wanted – to his fellow troops, including top brass in the war theater. Side hustle!

He was quickly promoted to Sergeant.

Traveling to the likes of Korea, Germany, the Philippines, and Japan for his various deployments, James developed a love for traveling. After 23 years in the military, and after marrying his childhood sweetheart, Dolores Hewes (Boor), he switched to civilian life, first as a Budweiser distributor, and shortly after as a purchasing manager for overseas drilling operations in the oil and gas field. His exploits took him to exotic destinations such as Abu Dhabi, Oman, Indonesia, Africa, and South America. His business office was in London. His absence from home, where his wife and daughters lived in Tulsa, OK, was greatly felt. His daughters loved going to the airport to greet him on his return flights. He always brought gifts from afar – dolls in their international costumes, gems and jewelry from far-off lands, objects from many cultures. Every gift had a story.

James loved flying, both as pilot and passenger. Upon marrying Dolores in Ponca City, he piloted a small plane, taking off from the cattle pastures of Dolores' family's farm, and heading to Galveston for their honeymoon. His grandson, Andrew, inherited the flying bug as well, piloting small aircraft around Texas for fun and adventure.

Through James' career pursuits, he put his daughters through the best private schools, and afforded them piano and ballet lessons throughout their childhoods. Ballet was an especially important skill he wanted his daughters to learn due to the legendary ballerinas that came from the nearby Native reservations. He often bragged that his sister had taken ballet as a child in the same class with Maria Tallchief, one of five Native American dancers pictured on a state mural in Oklahoma City's capitol building. For a time, his daughter, Amy, took lessons from another of those famous ballerinas, Moscelyne Larkin.

James was generous with praise to his children for their academic and career pursuits. He loved being a dad and taking care of his family. He enjoyed buying refrigerators and other appliances from Sears for his children and grandchildren in their separate homes and then sending monthly deliveries of Omaha Steaks. His daughters may never be able to eat through all the Caramel Apple Tartlets that came complimentary with each order.

Never a man to sit still, James began his last career working at Walmart, an occupation that enabled him to stay home and enjoy his daughters' last years of high school. Sam Walton once signed a dollar bill for James, which he proudly displayed on a bulletin board in the kitchen along with numerous business cards and a hand-typed list of family phone numbers and birthdays. Never would there be a rolodex or a cell phone contacts list. No, the bulletin board was a directory and scrapbook all in one.

James worked at Walmart until the age of 90, quitting when he moved to the Texas Hill Country to spend the last 5 years of his hustle. James was known for his humor and intellect – more so humor – and he never got dementia, maintaining the same talkative wit (some might say nitwit) until the very end. He was spry and active, much to the dismay of his daughters who themselves would have liked to enjoy a relaxing day at the ranch. Not Jim. He hit the coffee shops, restaurants, and Walmart almost every day. Agile as he was, he used the scooter at Walmart in his last years, loading it up slowly as he puttered down every aisle to the tune of 2 hour trips with Dean in tow, chasing him down and putting giant roasts and tomato juice jugs back on the shelves. He once loaded up his cart with pumpkins so high, he had to stick his head out to the side of his scooter to see where he was driving. He did not yield to fellow customers walking slowly in front of him. He had bargains to find and toiletries to stock up on.

James reveled in bulk buying, and then dispersing all of his goods to his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He would not allow another Great Depression in his family.

James' bootlegging roots persisted throughout his life. His daily coffee included a splash of Benedictine liquor in each mug. He loved the "shorty" bottles of Modelo and Stella Artois. He enjoyed ordering Lonestar beer and Dos Equis at local diners that he frequented often. He was especially thrilled that one of his grandchildren worked at a liquor store and could order special beers and liquors not readily available to other customers.

He was a member of the Elks Lodge, Veterans of Foreign Wars (V.F.W.), American Legion and the Knights of Columbus.

Most of all, James loved his family. He looked forward to the next visit he'd get from his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Taking care of others was all he ever thought about, outside of spiked coffee, beer, and the animals on the ranch.

James spent his last day surrounded by every single family member. Everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed to his side to share stories and laughter and love for a full day until he passed quietly during the night. He enjoyed the karma of a life well-lived, a life filled with unselfish love. He received it all back in the end from those he'd loved during his lifetime and will no doubt be greeted in heaven by his wife, Dolores, his brothers and sisters who passed before him, his parents, and numerous Basset Hounds all named Sammy or Samantha.

To sum it all up in his own words…"Nothing you can do about it, that's what they say."

A Graveside Service, with military honors, will be held at 9:30 AM on Wednesday, May 17, 2023

at Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery in San Antonio, Texas.

Please sign the guestbook at www.doeppenschmidtfuneralhome.com