Clarence James "Jim" Jingling

Jim Jingling (Clarence James Jingling)
February 8, 1931 – March 9, 2020

He had a rascally twinkle in his eye, a jovial voice, and an endless drive to tinker and build. Born in the middle of the Great Depression to a German immigrant father and a first-generation German American mother, Jim embodied the era’s do-it-yourself spirit and scrappy ingenuity.

He grew up on a dryland wheat farm near Moses Lake, on the windswept plains of Eastern Washington, with two older siblings, Robert and Viola, one younger sister, Goldie, and an assortment of horses, cows, goats, chickens, and pigeons.

As young kids, Jim and his brother would tie dried animal bones together with strings for harnesses and pretend they were plowing, disking, and harrowing a large field. Soon, the bone horses became a tractor and combine. Alongside their dad, the pair learned to care and repair for the farm equipment and then run it. Targeting a spot on the horizon, Jim was proud of the long, straight rows he drove across the wheat fields.

Town was 5 miles away and school was in one room through eighth grade. After high school, Jim was ready to drive beyond that spot on the horizon and see a larger world. Jim had been writing letters to a young woman in Flint, Michigan, named Evelyn (Evie) Baba and he was eager to meet his sweet penpal in person. He and a friend packed up a clunker with clothes, food, and tools for repairs and headed to Vehicle City, sleeping in the car along the way.

He was wise to make the 2,140-mile trip. After dating for two years, the former long-distance friends tied the knot in a big church wedding.

Jim found in Evie his beautiful counterpart — she was quiet, thoughtful, caring, and fun. And Evie was immediately taken with the kind, outgoing man who made her laugh. Over the next two years, their family grew to four with the birth of their son Ted and then their daughter Marcia.

Raised on a farm where if you needed something you built it, Jim helped one of Evie’s uncles hammer together their first house. Later, he finished the second floor with two bedrooms for the kids.

It was a warm home. Gospel music and the sound of Jim’s bass singing often filled the rooms. When the radio was on, he loved to surprise Evie in the kitchen with an embrace and say, “C’mon, Evie, let’s dance!” And around the kitchen and dining room they would go.

A playful and thoughtful father, he didn’t simply discipline his children, he listened to them too. And in turn, Ted and Marica learned to listen to their dad, not fear him.

He made his career in printing, surrounded by the rhythmic whir and clicks of presses and collating machines. One day, in a moment of distraction, his finger got caught in a collating machine and before he had a chance to free it, a metal plate came down and tore off the top third. True to form, Jim went on to turn this painful accident into laughter. He’d entertain kids by putting his shortened finger up to a nostril and pulling it away in mock horror at the sight of the missing tip — presumably eaten by something in his nose.

Life was good in Flint until one winter day in early 1959. Jim was breaking ice off of the roof and didn’t realize that six-year-old Ted was standing behind him. A chunk of ice struck Ted and knocked him to the ground. Looking down at his flattened son, Jim was terrified that he had killed him. Thankfully, Ted was fine, but Jim decided then and there that he was done with the cold.

That summer, the entire family drove to a job interview ... in San Diego, California. To beat the heat, they’d hit the road every morning at 2 a.m. Jim had built a small pallet to fit on the floor of the car’s backseat and the kids would sleep there during the pre-dawn hours. When they reached their final destination, Evie and the kids waited in the car while Jim went in for his interview at Business Forms Printing Co. (later renamed Vanier Graphics). He accepted an offer on the spot.

After moving into their new home in sunny San Diego County, the family became active members of the San Diego First Assembly of God Church (now named City View Church). Jim loved being part of a community and the couple made many close and life-long friends of all ages. During the 61 years he attended, Jim sang in the choir and served as Sunday School superintendent, Royal Rangers leader, deacon, board member, and church elder.

No matter where he was, Jim was always ready to strike up a conversation or burst into song. His sisters remember once when they were visiting the San Diego Zoo, they heard three women singing as they walked down the path ahead. Jim caught up with them and sang along — making everyone laugh.

In 1964, Jim was proud to sing in the Billy Graham Crusade choir at the San Diego stadium. Later, when Billy Graham was the 1971 Grand Marshall of the Rose Parade, Jim caught sight of him walking to the start of the route. With his best booming voice, he called out, “Uncle Billy!” Though surrounded by escorts, Billy Graham paused, turned, and shook hands with Jim, much to his delight.

Even on a tour of the White House, Jim did what came naturally. When President Johnson happened to walk by, most of the tour stood awestruck and still. Not Jim. He stuck out his hand for a shake and Johnson obliged.

Jim was always coming up with jokes, and he could take teasing as well as give it. Once when he was joshing with some of the young kids at church, one of the girls pushed him in the stomach. He said, “Watch it. That’s made of steel!” She immediately replied, “It’s gooshy steel!” The nickname stuck and the kids got a kick out of calling him that for years.

The drive to put hammer to nail never left him. Jim taught Ted and Marcia how to use a shovel and pickaxe when they were young and together they leveled their terraced backyard. He set the standard: work until the job is done and do it well.

Anything could be repaired or repurposed. Sliding glass shower doors became doors for an outdoor patio; nails, screws, and wood scraps were saved for future projects. He even replaced the plumbing and sewer line for the house, melting lead to seal the joints. A source of pride, his tools were impeccably organized in dozens of drawers and on the wall above his workbench in the garage. He was always working on projects around his home, for others, and at church. Even at age 88 he was still tinkering.

Jim and Ted, who was named after Jim’s dad Theodore, enjoyed a close father-son friendship. They were alike in the best ways. They were both caring, made friends easily and enjoyed physical activity and problem solving. They both had careers in the printing industry, and they enjoyed going to Padres and Chargers games together and talking about the latest news stories to capture their imaginations.

Jim and Evie expanded their travel destinations when Marcia married Lou Kilcrease, whose U.S. Army career took them far from California. When granddaughter April was born, grandpa and grandma boarded a plane for Germany. Later, they added Georgia, Texas, and Colorado to their family travel destinations.

Grandpa’s farm boy humor and funny faces always made April laugh. One time when April was about eight and having dinner with Grandpa and Grandma at Marie Callender's, Grandpa told her to write “European!” (translation: “you’re a pee’n”) on the chalkboard in the restroom stall. She came back to the table giggling as she reveled in what she thought was the pinnacle of comedy.

When the Vanier Graphics plant closed in 1991, Jim decided to retire. After 39 years in the printing business, he was ready to put his energy and skills to work on different projects.

Naturally, he began retirement by helping with the construction of a new building at City View Church. He thrived on contributing his skills to his church and sharing in the work crew’s camaraderie. During the construction, a stack of heavy drywall sheets fell on his left leg, resulting in a limp for the rest of his life. But even at 63, that did not stop him.

Next, Jim volunteered to work on a yearslong renovation project at San Diego Teen Challenge. The organization became an important part of his life. He was committed to the mission, the staff, and the people served. Often, Evie would join Jim and the rest of his work-crew buddies for take-out tacos at the site. He became a member of San Diego Teen Challenge’s board of directors and continued to support their work after the construction was completed.

The hardest day of Jim’s life came in March 2018 when he had to say good-bye to his beloved Evie. His last two years without her were hard. He valued every phone call and visit from friends and family. During those final weeks when he felt it was nearing time to go, he was singing along with gospel quartets on TV and looking forward to seeing Jesus ... and Evie.

Jim passed from this life at home surrounded by love. We deeply miss him. He is survived by son and daughter-in-law, Ted and Diane; daughter and son-in-law, Marcia and Lou, granddaughter, grandson-in-law and great granddaughter, April, Chris, and Tallulah, his sisters, Viola and Goldie, and extended family members.

Jim loved to laugh and he loved to hear others’ laughter. We hope a memory of him brings a smile to your face and laughter to your day.

Donations in his memory may be sent to San Diego Teen Challenge, Attn: Herlindo Salinas, Director, 5450 Lea Street, San Diego, CA 92105