Source: http://www.broussards1889.com/services.asp?page=odetail&id=10858

Ovay Hilton Mayes
June 27, 1918 - June 1, 2014

Ovay Hilton Mayes, servant of the Lord, unyielding believer and open-hearted human soul, passed away from this life, June 1, 2014, in Beaumont, Texas, his home for the last seventy years.

Born June 27, 1918, into a Caldwell Parish, Louisiana, farming family, O.H., as he was known to most, moved with his parents to Winn Parish arriving just in time for the Great Depression. “Depression?” he would say, “That's what it was? We never knew when it came and near as anybody could tell, it never left.” What he did know was farm labor and as soon as he was old enough, going into the woods to log the Louisiana forests of ancient pine and hardwood that would forever remain to him a memory of awe and beauty. He passed his eleven years of schooling at Sikes School not exactly a scholar, except for mathematics or anything that related to machinery and tools. Basketball meant more than books and as soon as he could get the seventy-five cents for the basketball shoes, he played the rubber off the soles. Once he decided that indolence and pride were serious handicaps to prosperity, he discovered his dramatic flair, mostly comedic, but in those entertainment-starved parts, somewhat marketable. First for nickels, then dimes, he amused the parish with a musical style that might have been a little off-key but never lacked confidence and always presented with the great good humor which framed his viewpoint. He had developed a small local radio following before he sensed his limits, began to take logging more seriously and to negotiate a careful courtship with his childhood sweetheart, Mildred Taylor. The sweetheart needed no convincing, but her mother was a little skeptical since he had previously courted both of her other daughters, sometimes simultaneously. They married in 1939 under Mama's wary eye and the weight of this new responsibility send him hitchhiking to the nearest boxcar he could catch. He was unloaded on the Texas Gulf Coast and his first steady paycheck. It was the beginning of a lifetime of working to make anything work. Anything.

He was tireless and devoted and with a growing family, he worked long hours at several jobs. This was World War II and defense work was plentiful. A childhood accident had left him with a condition that would have handicapped most but he soon understood that his injury meant a medical deferment and opportunity to take advantage of all the wartime occupations. His innate mechanical talents and a gift of resurrecting the irreclaimable during the national shortage put him in demand so that he got all the work he wanted. He was finally able to become debt free for the very first time and when he made his last worrisome fifty-cent payment to Sears and Roebuck, the notion took hold of him that he never wanted to owe anyone again. From that day, he was almost completely self-sufficient. He built his own first house from savings, and when he started his lot clearing business, he built, rebuilt, and modified his own equipment, again from savings, and again, alone. He was almost singlehandedly responsible for clearing most of the West End in the fifties and sixties and he and his mighty ice water can were a familiar sight on most every corner. He made everything work, himself and alone. Everything.

At the age of fifty-one he climbed off the construction equipment, temporarily, he thought, to help his son-in-law in a growing family business, Helena Laboratories. His years in the construction trades, his intuitive mechanics and especially his willingness to happily devote long hours to any problem, made him a natural for planning and production. His inventions of mechanized laboratory equipment and pump inserts earned him several patents and added new products to the Helena line. When Helena became incorporated, he was named vice-president and was permanently out of construction. Except for fun.

He had long been building furniture and cabinets and loved the function of whatever he built himself. When he had filled his house with furniture, he began to carve birds, wildlife, flowers, and intricate miniatures, notable and prize winning. He carved bowls, a working oil derrick, and automobiles. He would turn cypress knees into mules, peach pits into monkeys and small forked sticks into crowing roosters. He built musical instruments, mandolins, dulcimers, and guitars.

He found time to grow gardens of vegetables and to be the fix-it man in the family, and neighborhood. His shopping mall for years had been the city curb and no trash pile was safe from his reclaiming. Appliances, large and small, clocks, bicycles, even a Brazilian standing floor harp, there were always projects. When time and arthritis wrested his woodworking tools from his hands, he still worked the old toolbox and kept his ancient washer and dryer alive for thirty years from the day he picked it up off the street.

He was an avid hunter and became an accomplished taxidermist to the point that his wife almost put her foot down when the corners of their house became clogged with caribou, elk, bobcats, a standing grizzly, and even a monstrous rattlesnake he ran down with his pickup.

Early on he found a church home at the First Assembly of God church on the corner of Avenue A and Wall. He never failed to tithe and worked in the small church wherever needed until membership grew enough to build a much larger church at the corner of Oakland and Harrison Streets. He continued to work there, teaching Sunday school, working in the prison visitation ministry and as a ready volunteer for anything needed. This church eventually became Cathedral in the Pines where he served on the board for many years and made many lifelong friendships. His strong faith led him daily and anything that was unsolvable here on this earth was taken to the Lord in prayer.

At the age of ninety-five he was still working and still without debt, still in good humor, and caring for his wife. She had become ill, so he had become cook, house keeper, nurse, and constant companion, still living his years with honesty and integrity and writing his life in chapters of kindness and humility. When she died, he began to close the book on this plane and open it on the next.

He is preceded in death by his wife of seventy-four years, Mildred Taylor Mayes; his parents, Dora Hatten Mayes and Wesley Mayes; one son, James Andrew Mayes; three brothers, Hoyt, Floyd, and Jesse Mayes; a sister, Stella Mayes Cash; one great-granddaughter, Nicole Golias; and two daughters-in-law, Neva Emmons Mayes and Kaye Karr Mayes.

Surviving is one sister, Lessie Mayes Sterns; sons, David Mayes and Ronny Mayes and his wife, Mandy; one daughter, Ann Golias and her husband, Tipton; grandchildren, Amy Mayes Wallace and her husband, Jason; Kathleen Mayes Stock and her husband, Brian; Waylon Mayes; Mark Golias and his wife, Julie; Joe Golias and his wife, Sue; Wendy Golias; Karla Golias Falgout and her husband, Paul. He leaves great-grandchildren, Lee Golias and his wife, Carlyn; Buffin Golias and Brooke Terrill; B.J. Stock; Ovay Golias and his wife, Kayla; Carly, Brandt, and Dustin Burns; Zachary Falgout and his wife, Lauren; and Andrew, Jennie, Matthew, and Thomas Falgout. He also leaves one great-great-grandchild, Emma Grace Falgout.

The whole Mayes family wishes to thank Libby Taylor and the Earth Angels. We are so appreciative and very mindful of the loving attention, care, and concern each one had for our precious father. We especially wish to thank Shannon James, Lisa Ezell, Peggy Parrie, and Rhonda Haywood for their devotion and kindness, good humor, and hard work and for always assuring us that our dear one was in capable hands.

A gathering of Mr. Mayes' family and friends will be from 5:00 p.m. until 7:00 p.m., Friday, June 6, 2014, at Broussard's, 1605 North Major Drive, Beaumont. His funeral service will be at 10:00 a.m., Saturday, June 7, 2014, at Broussard's, with his interment to follow at Forest Lawn Memorial Park, Beaumont.