Mug Stakely:
never met a man who didn’t like him

"I pray every night, thanking God for my neighbors and how good He’s been to me.  I also pray for
this nation of ours.  We’ve got a flag that stands for peace and freedom, and I think that the only
way we can get out of the trouble we’re in today is through prayer."

BY SCOTT HOWARD

"MUG" STAKELY is a caring man. It shows from his friendly chuckle to his deep concern for his fellow man. In his 90 years he has done enough caring for two people. If this world only had a few more Mug Stakely’s

Born only about 300 yards from where he lives now, Mug went to school through the fourth grade. As it was with most children of those years, he went to work on the farm. Although carrying several different job titles, he has continued to work hard every day. It shows too.

AFTER LEAVING the farm in the early twenties, he traveled to Florida to work as a carpenter rebuilding damaged buildings left behind after a hurricane. Completing those duties, he moved on to North Carolina to pour concrete for tunnels.

Crossing the state line back to Tennessee, he helped build Rymer Ferry.

Then, after his tour of public jobs, he returned to his first love: farming. Owning as many as 400 acres, he has sold and given to his children all but 30. Still, 30 acres is a lot for a 90-year-old man to tend to.

Unless that man happens to be Mug.

IN THE FIELD some days from sun up to sun down, he works two gardens and a crop of corn and potatoes. Sitting astride his tractor, he’s a man at home with himself and nature.

"Sometimes I’ve had to plant the same crop several times," he said. "But there’s not anything I can do about the weather, so I just take it as it comes."

Sometimes in his busy day, Mug finds the time to be a family man. Sitting in his easy chair, the love and care he worked so hard to give to his family surrounds him. At any time of the day you can find any number of his family or neighbors sitting in his living room "chewing the fat."

ANYTHING and everything might be discussed. The conversation drifts from the weather, to the day’s business, to what Mug’s little nephew Bobby might be doing. One would almost think Uncle Mug was asleep if his chuckle didn’t occasionally follow a humorous remark.

Quietly taking it all in, Mug lights a smoke and wonders what is happening to this younger generation.

"It really worries me how these kids are today," he said. "They’re drinkin’ and killin’ and goin’ on."

"I JUST have to pray for them and help them out as much as I can."

Many times, he says, he has bailed boys out of jail so they could have the second chance he says they deserve.

"God put us on this Earth to make something of ourselves," Mug pointed out. "Sometimes you make a mistake and you have to pay for it. But He always gives us another chance. So I figure I can give those boys one too."

If only this world had a few more Mug Stakely’s

NOBODY SEEMS to know how this Monroe County native got the name "Mug," but it has managed to stick for about 80 years. The only explanation he can give is that some school buddies started calling him Mug and it stuck.

Not many of Mug’s school chums are around anymore. Most have died. Today, Mug is usually surrounded by his family and neighbors. He still remembers some of his friends that have passed on though. Mug spared particular memories of the late Bob and Fannie Duggan.

Mug must spend a great deal of time on his knees each night. He continually mentioned names of people that he gives thanks for every night.

SOME ARE former pastors; like Chester Millsaps, James Patton and Frank Hicks. All were close friends and neighbors who Mug said meant something extra special in his life.

Surely, he meant as much t them as they did to him.

There is not much of a way to meet Mr. Stakely and not be warmed by his honest affection and concern. One could hazard a guess that he’s never met a man who didn’t like him.

Back years ago, he’s not sure exactly when, some people came through looking for a place to settle. They were Jewish and not used to eating what most folks around here ate at the time.

THE PATRIARCH of the family became ill and Mug found him and took him in. He fed him properly and nursed him back to health.

When the man asked what he owed his benefactor, Mug replied, "Don’t owe me nothin’. God gave it to me and now I’m giving it to you."

That spirit exemplifies, Mug both then and now. Always giving of himself, he has sacrificed personal comfort for that of his children. There were 15 at last count.

Four have died but 11 of them, plus families, gather on May 12 each year for a family reunion and Mug’s birthday celebration. Usually, between 75 and 100 show up at the doorstep of Mug’s seven room house.

"IF IT ISN’T raining, we eat out in the front yard," Mug’s wife Slonie said. "But if it rains we all have to stay inside."

Most groups of 100 would be at each other’s throats if cramped together like that. Not the Stakely family, though. "We still have the best time," Slonie assured.

Mug not only built all the buildings in sight, but he helped build the family spirit that exists in that community.

From day one, Mug Stakely was meant to be an inspiration to those who know him. Faith to his charge, he chuckles and thanks God for his neighbors and His blessings.

The following are captions from the photos with the article (Photo’s by Scott Howard):

#1 [Photo of Mug & Slonie Stakely] " 'Mug' and Slonie Stakely raised a large brood and they particularly enjoy the family gatherings that often find as many as 100 relatives together under the roof of their small farm house."

#2 [Close up photo of Mug in chair] " 'Mug' Stakely, 90 years of age, enjoys a smoke as he describes the details of his life.  Mug lives on a spacious farm, about three football fields from his birthplace."