A Legacy of Building and Babies
By Gary S. Hatrick
A proper legend is defined as a story that is considered historical but has not been authenticated, like King Arthur or Robin Hood. Their names and deeds live on, though they don’t tangibly impact our lives. But a legend can be more loosely defined as one who has accomplished significant things so much so that his or her influence will be felt for years to come, even by those who do not know their name.
Jim Cross is one of those people; his fingerprints are all over the east Pasco area, having built or worked on many developments with familiar names such as Talia Condominiums, Orange Blossom Ranch, Sunburst RV Park, Shady Rest Mobile Home Park, and others.
Cross, 89, began his life in an unusual way, because where he was born was not where he was born; in fact, it was a different state. You see, he was born at home in Itawamba County, Mississippi, but he was born in Red Bay, Alabama.
Confused?
“We lived in Mississippi,” he said, “but the mailing address was Red Bay, Alabama. We lived about three miles into Mississippi on the other side of the line, about five miles from Red Bay.” So when you ask where he was born, he says Red Bay, Alabama, though he was actually in Itawamba County, Mississippi when he saw his first light. Light, which he says was piped in because they were so far out in the country,
He has kept a penchant for living off the beaten path, as evidenced by his home on North 23rd St., which is not the middle of nowhere, but it is not in the midst of everything either. He lives there with his wife of 70 years, the former Barbara Maddock of McHenry, Illinois. He met her after his family had moved to Illinois.
“In 1953, my dad lost his job. I went to school in Memphis. He had a brother in Illinois who worked for Nash Motors, which eventually became American Motors, so my dad went up there and got a job, and then later my mom went and left me home with three kids. Then at that end of that school year they came and got us. Hey, think about that. Would you leave a probably a 16-year-old kid in Memphis?”
This would be an unacceptable circumstance today, but things were different. Kids often had to grow up fast and accept more responsibility, especially when they were the eldest.
“I was much more responsible,” he said. “I drove the kids to school. My brother and I were in high school. I would take my younger brother and sister to their school, and then we would go to our school. When I had my subjects done, I got out around noon, and I worked in the grocery store, and the guy that owned the grocery store let me go pick them up and take them home.”
In July 1955, Cross married Barbara. They had a boy, James, and a girl, Deborah, but it wasn’t in the cards to stay in Illinois.
“I liked Illinois,” he said. “I really liked summertime, but I totally hated winter; the winters back in the 50s were not like they are now. Back in the 50s, it was not uncommon for it to snow on Thanksgiving and not see the grounds again until the end of March. So, I hated it. We went to Miami for a vacation, and the kids were swimming in January. I said, ‘Hey, let's move to Florida and we'll build a nice swimming pool behind the house.’ ”
They moved to Florida. Barbara’s parents were retiring and moving to New Port Richie, and she wanted to be near them, so they settled in Dade City in 1952.
When Cross first came to Florida, he worked for a building development company that was building in Wesley Chapel when it was little more than a crossroads. He worked for other construction companies until he and his wife found Cross Construction, and later, he brought in a partner. The company is still in business today, although he retired in 1976. One of his early projects was building a chicken farm for Jimmy Wayne Simpson, the father of Florida Commissioner of Agriculture Wilton Simpson. “Wilton was a kid,” he smiles.
It’s hard to pin him down on when Cross Construction started because, he says, Cross Construction, “has been around since dirt,” which means that construction has been a way of life for him since he was young.
“My brother-in-law and I built our first house in 1954,” he recalled. “I was 16 and he was 18. He was the head of the operation, okay, he was the old guy. He was a first-year apprentice carpenter, and I was an apprentice butcher. We both did a 40-hour-a-week job and worked nights and weekends. We built everything, and when I say everything, I mean everything. We dug the footer, poured the concrete, set the forms, actually made the forms that we set. We did plumbing, electrical, everything. My sister-in-law still lives in the house today. She’s 92.
No matter what he has done, some kind of construction has always been in the background. He has done many things, “You name it, and I've done a little bit of it,” he said. “When I was young, I picked cotton, and as I got a little older, I worked in the grocery stores. I drove semi trucks. I owned semi trucks, I had a construction company. I had an asbestos abatement company.”
But Cross’s greatest legacy is very close to home. It is his family. He is a strong family man and a respected patriarch. His family has expanded to include his two children.
“I got four grandchildren and I’ve got seven great-grandchildren. No Great-Great yet. Not yet, but I got one who's already graduated from high school. I've always treated them just like I did my son and my daughter, but they all still talk to me,” he chuckles. “I can call any one of 'em at any given time and, unless it's something to do with their work where they can't, they’ll be right there.
“Barbara did it,” he said. She was the chief cook and cotta washer. She’s my number one sidekick.” She has worked side-by-side with him over the years. “In this house right here, when we built this house, my son and I hung the sheet rock, and we painted the ceiling, but she's painted all the walls, hung all the wallpaper, finished all the doors. She did that all by herself. Nobody helped her. She's been my keeper. You know, if I hadn’t been with her, I probably wouldn't be where I am today.”
Cross is still goingstrong. At his recent 89th birthday party, he danced a twist, twisting all the way to the ground. At the time of this interview, he was taking a break from doing some work crawling under his granddaughter's double-wide. He is a strong, nearly 90-year-old.
“I’ll tell you the truth. I never thought that I would be here at 65,” he said. “Never in my wildest dreams. My dad was 55, his brother was 49 when they passed.’ What did he do to achieve such a condition? I’ve led a pretty active life, physically my whole life, and as far as I know, that's it. It's not anything I did, I didn't do anything special.”
He stays active. hehelps out the family and works on old cars. I've got three right now. I have a '54 Mercury, a '55 Ford Thunderbird convertible, and a '65 Ford Falcon Convertible. I keep them just out here. I go out there and work on them when I want, when I don’t, I don't have to.”
He’s earned the right to make that choice after so many years of work, leaving a legacy of buildings and babies. What more can you ask of a legend?
