This post has taken me some time to write. Losing John left a space that words simply could not fill right away. It comes with heavy heart and many tears. I know that all of you that knew Dr. John will understand.
However, this blog was built on memories and continuing to share them is exactly what he would want us to do.
Some people come into your life for a short time. Others stay long enough to change it forever.
Dr. John McElligott was one of those people.
In 2017, John and I first talked about the idea for this blog. At the time it was just a dream — make a place where Midlanders could share memories and stories from a special time in their lives.
In 2018, we decided to make that dream a reality.
What started as a simple idea became something much bigger.
Together we helped create a place where more than 500 stories now live, and where thousands of readers and proud “water drinkers” return to laugh, remember, and reconnect. Through this project he and I met many Texans who now feel like family.
Somewhere along the way, Dr. John became my best friend.
John believed deeply that stories mattered. He used to joke, “Why write a blog when you can’t spell?” But then he would answer his own question.
Because once a story is written down, it can last forever.
He also liked to say that he would retire “the day before they cremate me.” That was John, always working to save lives, always laughing, always finding a reason to celebrate life.
Dr. John McElligott passed away peacefully on February 15, 2026.
I miss him terribly and probably will for the rest of my life. But his dream will not end here.
As long as these stories continue to be shared, his spirit will live on — in every memory, every laugh, and every story told here.
And maybe that is the real story John left with us…that as long as memories are shared and stories are told, the people we love are never truly gone.
John believed this blog belonged to the people of Midland, Texas who lived these stories.
If you have a memory of Dr. John, a story that made you laugh, or even a small moment you remember from those Midland days, I invite you to share it. That was always John’s hope — that the stories would continue long after he was gone.
By sharing those memories, we keep his spirit alive and carry forward the dream he started.
Let’s keep telling the stories. Let’s keep remembering. And together, let’s carry on the legacy John believed in so deeply.
Each day, as I would leave him, he always reminded me, “If you can’t be good, be great.”
He was the greatest of all time.
Please join his live stream funeral mass celebrated March 14, 2026 at Noon All Saints Catholic Church, Knoxville, TN here:
I commend all our peers who have contributed to make the “Water Drinkers” blog possible. It has been fun writing my stories and reading our fellow drinkers’ stories. Today, I want to share a story about a special person that came before us, but would certainly have been an honored member of the “Water Drinkers”—A.C. Wheat Jr.
I have been wanting to document this for years. And now that we have the “drinkers” forum, I thought there’s no better way to share this experience with everyone than this.
There was a time when anyone telling a story like this would have been thought of as a nut. Not that some family and friends don’t already think this, but I must press on to get this “off my chest”. You will be reading a lot of verbiage to bring you up to date and current with my life situation at the time prior to revealing what I have been wanting to document for a long time.
Shortly after grad school, I was hired as an Associate Professor in the Engineering and Technology department at Western Carolina University in a little mountain town known as Cullowhee, N.C. My wife Brenda, our young son Robert and I lived in the nearby town of Waynesville which is nestled in the Great Smoky Mountains. I commuted daily to teach in one of the most beautiful parts of our country. It was “over the mountain” and the drive was always great, even when it snowed…and my little VW Beatle never failed to make it.
I have always been an airplane nut. It began with dime store gliders, to wind up rubber powered gliders, to stick and tissue models, to gas powered planes. Later I built and flew radio control models.
Shortly after moving to N.C., I discovered a local airport with a grass landing strip… something in rare supply in the mountains. Even better, there was a flight instructor there in his Cessna 150. I later fondly named it a Cessna one-five-nothing. But it was a good stable platform to begin flying lessons.
After many negotiations with my sweet wife, she relented and I began to do something I had often longed to do. And about 6 months later, after accumulating the required flight instruction and hours, and passing my written exam, I was off to Asheville Airport to take my flight test.
My flight examiner was a crusty individual who talked very little only to ask me to wear an instrument flight simulator hood as soon as we lifted off. Gulp! This hood you wear like a ball cap restricts your ability to see outside…you see only the instrument panel, so you must control the aircraft without any reference to the outside. I told him I wasn’t there for an instrument rating exam, and he said “just fly the airplane”. He gave me compass headings and altitudes to fly, but he kept us circling to the right, then to the left for about fifteen minutes. We did a few more maneuvers without the hood and then we returned to the airport. After signing me off for my license he said, “Now go out and learn how to be a pilot”. The longer I flew, the more his words became golden. Oh yes, the repetitious circle flying was for him to observe a championship golf tournament being held nearby.
Fast forward about two years. I was now flying a classic aircraft known as a Stinson Station Wagon 108-3. A very stable airplane with a reputation for carrying heavy loads. It was used early-on in Alaska as a bush plane and had a 3/4″ marine plywood floor for the heavy loads. The interior was wrapped in maple and mahogany to emulate the ‘woodie’ wagon automobiles of the time.
Brenda and I became good friends with a couple in Waynesville, Sandy and Linda Hudson. Sandy had flown to Winston – Salem for an interview for city secretary, a job he later was offered. Besides being good friends, we were both pilots, and were always looking for a reason to go flying. Wives and friends of pilots are aware of this common trend (illness?). So, Sandy called asking if I could fly down and pick him up. Bet you can correctly guess my answer.
I was to meet him at the W-S FBO flight center around 6pm the next day.
Sure enough, next day I arrived in W-S flight center to see a smiling Sandy ready to go flying. After topping off both fuel tanks, we were soon airborne looking into a setting sun that still took a bit of squinting before it finally sat. Weather was ideal and the ride was the proverbial smooth as silk.
Night flying is really beautiful. Ease of navigation because town lights and an aerial chart called a Sectional make it easy to know where you are along your route. Also, there was this nice highway below us with car lights heading directly to our destination. But the cardinal rule while mountain flying is to always find the highest point along your flight path and add about a thousand feet to it for your flight altitude. This is what we did.
Navigation devices in the 70’s were cave man compared to today’s. We had a thing called Omnirange back then for guidance, but it was a line-of-site system, so it really didn’t work that well in the mountains. Now everything works off satellites. In fact, most of the new navigation flight systems (airlines) allow pilots to punch in the required correct data, and all they have to do is keep the seat warm until they land. Well, not really.
We were about two thirds along our way and were approaching the town of Black Mountain N.C. in the heart of Pisgah National Forest. So far, all was well. We had plenty of altitude, and we were headed in the right direction . The steady rumble of the engine, the smooth ride and the soft, steady red glow of the instrument back lights were all adding to flight confidence.
Not many airplanes at that time had intercom headsets so pilot and passengers could carry on a pleasant conversation. With little soundproofing and lots of prop and engine noise, shouting was the norm to be understood. Consequently, Sandy and I did little talking. Although, in a bit, Sandy leaned in to say something to me, and that’s when it happened! Instantly, the cabin was filled with a light as bright as a giant spotlight like the ones seen scanning the skies at some big event.
We both turned toward the light source coming from the right rear window! It looked like a 747 airliner was on final approach for our right wing! My God! We were dead! Where did that come from!!? Such a bright light that it made you squint to the point of closing your eyes.
I immediately took evasive action by steeply climbing up and to the left. Maybe it would miss us! The light stayed right with us! You could not see a light source…just all brightness all around…not like car lights where you see two distinct lights coming towards you. I really thought we were dead!
I turned to check our airspeed to make sure we weren’t stalling in the climb, but we were ok. As I returned to look at the light source, I noticed Sandy had turned in his seat with one hand holding onto the seat back and his other arm was over his face. I shouted “What the hell is that?” , and Sandy yelled back, “Hell, I don’t know!!”
I attempted another evasive maneuver by diving and turning in the opposite direction. I leaned all the way over in front of Sandy to see if the light looked any different from that view. It was still a wall of solid light with no apparent movement, just stuck in the same spot. I pulled the throttle back so we would slow down, and Sandy shouted “No, it might run into us!”. So I throttled back up. And the bright light got even brighter! Oh shiπ! I remember glancing back at my instrument panel and was amazed that, since the panel was painted white, I had to squint to read the instruments. Then the light went out! Nothing! We saw nothing where the light used to be.
Everything turned back to normal. The soft red glow of the instruments, the steady hum of the engine and the twinkling of city lights below reinforced the feeling that all was ok…and we were still alive! I can still remember feeling my heart pounding.
I called Asheville Approach tower and asked if there was any other air traffic in my area. Since I had no Transponder back then, they asked me to press my mike button a couple of seconds so our airplane would show up on their directional finding equipment. It did, and Asheville reported we were clear of traffic by about 20 miles. An airliner out of Charlotte at about 15,000 feet.
I turned to Sandy and asked him if he thought we should let the tower know what had just happened. After a couple of seconds, we both slowly moved our heads left and right. Nope. They would think we were nut jobs. No telling how long we would have to stay at Asheville airport. And writing up the incident would take hours, and no telling what else we may face.
But we had survived “IT”, whatever it was. Sandy told me he just never wanted to talk about it to anyone it scared him so bad…and he didn’t.
Before arriving at my house, I contemplated telling Brenda about what Sandy and I had experienced. I decided I couldn’t keep it from her.
About half way through my explanation, Brenda smiled and asked if Sandy and I had cooked up this crap to see if she and Linda would believe us.
She still thinks I’m a nut, but I love her anyway….and it is STILL THE TRUTH!
Listen to Dorogoi Dlinnoyu “By the Long Road” while reading this story! Click the arrow below.
Written by Gere Gaige
In Midland I spent three years of elementary school, and three years of high school before leaving for Texas Tech and a pre-med Chemistry degree. My parents lived there a bit longer before Mobil Oil transferred my geologist father to Houston. So I had ten total years connected to the Midland water, before entering the U.S. Air Force in 1968 to become an instructor and spin demonstration pilot until our national “conflict” ended in 1973. Those ten Midland years were to be followed a bit later in life by 15 years working and living in Russia helping to form the new real estate market in the changing post-Soviet economy.
Click the arrow below to listen to the audio of Charley’s story
The audio of Charley’s story is transcribed below:
I remember in high school on Friday and Saturday nights when we didn’t have anything to do, we would go “paper” girls’ houses. We would go wrap these girls’ houses in toilet paper. Two of my friends, Clyde Jones (MHS 64), and Roy Vaughn (MHS 63) and I would go and wrap these girls’ houses. Clyde’s girlfriend was Carol Osborne (MHS 64) and we wrapped hers several weeks in a row! Carol’s Dad got tired of us doing this and one night he came out and Clyde had just jumped off the roof. He had been up there on the roof and he had thrown a roll of toilet paper down the chimney! As soon as he jumped down, Mr. Osborne was standing there, and Clyde took off running. I was waiting in the car and I took off, and I picked him up down the street. We quit papering houses after that!
After retiring from Exxon Red became a Realtor and he and Jean had a successful real estate business for many years. Red went in for back surgery when he was 63 hoping to improve his quality of life so he could enjoy his retirement years, but unfortunately a blood clot formed in his lungs and he passed away before he could even come home from the hospital. Jean continued to work the real estate business for several years, retired and continued to reside in Midland until she passed away in 1999 while still living at the home the Moore family loved and cherished – 2701 W. Louisiana.
One of the best days of my life… Finding Sweet Charlotte.
Post Vietnam, I transferred from Odessa College to join my brother, Tom, at Baylor University. Tom was the “Wing Ding” and the supervisor for the athletic dorm at Baylor.
I transferred to Baylor trying to become a Bear and stayed at Tom’s place at the Residential Hall for all the athletes at Baylor.
At night I slept on the dorm floor and went to class (Pre Med) all day. I got a part-time job cleaning the science lab every day to pay for my meals in Waco and at night I worked with Tom to move outside air conditioners.
If you travel to Uganda you will see free roaming dogs everywhere. And with dogs come bites and with bites comes rabies. About 500 cases of rabies are reported each year in Uganda. Not only dogs but also raccoons, skunks, jackals, hyenas, even cows and goats have been known to transmit the disease. Not all animals with rabies are violent. Some are withdrawn and appear to be ill. The virus remains in the muscles near the bite wound for a short time then travels up the nerves eventually reaching the brain or spinal cord. Symptoms may occur days or months after the exposure and include abnormal behavior, hallucinations, and hydrophobia. There is progression to coma and death.
The person who is bitten should wash the wound vigorously with soap and water. The animal should be confined and observed for at least ten days. If the animal cannot be isolated or escapes, the bite victim must be treated. A vaccine is available and should be administered on the day of the bite, then 3, 7, and 14 days later.Best practice is to give rabies immune globulin together with the first dose of vaccine.
The vaccine was developed by Louis Pasteur in the 19th century. He infected rabbits with the virus by injecting nerve tissue from rabid dogs close to the spinal cord or lower part of the brain in the rabbits. When a rabbit developed signs of rabies, he took a small piece of nerve tissue from the animal and placed it in a flask in which most of the air had been removed. The longer the tissue remained in the flask the less virulent or weaker it became.
He then gave a dog a series of injections with the tissue beginning with the least virulent specimen, the which had been in a flask the longest. In each successive injection he used pieces of tissue closer to the time they were harvested. Finally he gave the dog an injection with the most virulent tissue, the one closest to the time of the harvest. The dog did not get rabies after this last injection because its immune system had been primed to recognize and destroy the virus.
One day when Pasteur was finishing with these experiments, a 9 year old boy was brought to him. The boy had been severely bitten by a rabid dog and had multiple bite wounds. Over the next 2 weeks he was given a series of injections with nerve tissue from a rabbit infected with rabies, starting with the least virulent specimen and ending with the most virulent.
The boy was examined closely for months. He never showed any sign of rabies and was pronounced free of the disease. This event was widely proclaimed as a great scientific advance and made Pasteur world famous.
Today bats are becoming more frequently implicated in cases of rabies. Again the best way to manage an animal bite is to clean the bite wound carefully, isolate and observe the animal, and begin vaccination if appropriate.
When Albert Schweitzer opened his medical clinic in West Africa, he saw many patients suffering from sleeping sickness. They would present with severe headache, fever, joint pain, and enlarged lymph nodes. Often they would become confused and agitated and suffer with daytime sleepiness and nighttime insomnia. There was gradual progression into coma and death. The disease was very prevalent in tropical Africa. It was the cause of death in a high percentage of the Ugandan population.
The disease is caused by the trypanosome parasite which infects cattle and wild animals. The tsetse fly which is commonly found in the area bites the animal and ingests the parasites. They multiply and migrate to the salivary glands. When the fly bites a human or another animal, it injects the parasites into the bloodstream. They again multiply and invade the lymph nodes and eventually the brain and meninges. The disease can be diagnosed by identifying the parasites in the blood, lymph nodes, or spinal fluid. Several hours may be required to find the parasites. Dr. Schweitzer spent many hours at this work.
Eventually the disease was controlled by treating all infected individuals and reducing the cattle and tsetse fly populations, Pentamidine and Suramin are among the most effective medicines to treat the illness. Patients can relapse and must be followed carefully for up to 2 years after treatment.
To prevent this disease travelers should use insect repellent and wear long sleeved shirts and long pants with neutral colors. The tsetse flies are attracted to bright and dark colors. In 2020 only 700 cases were reported to the World Health Organization. Most were hunters or people hiking through dense vegetation.
Malaria is by far the most common disease seen at the Cross Clinic. It is caused by the bite of the Anopheles mosquito. The falciparum variety is the most common type in Uganda and other tropical African countries. The mosquito transmits the parasites into the human body during a blood meal. The parasites are carried to the liver where they rapidly multiply. The liver cells eventually burst and release large numbers of the parasites into the bloodstream. They then invade the red blood cells and multiply again and are released and invade other red cells. Some of the parasites develop into sexual forms which can be ingested by other mosquitoes which bite the infected person. These can develop into other parasites, and the cycle continues. The proteins on the red cell surfaces are altered so that the cells are more sticky and adhere to the small blood vessels and block blood flow to vital organs such as the brain and kidneys.
The symptoms caused by malaria infection are high fever, headache, body aches, and nausea and vomiting. Children between the ages of 6 months to 3 years tend to have the most serious form of the disease. They can develop seizures, severe anemia, and low blood sugar.
Quinine was the drug most frequently used to treat malaria and still can be effective. Many parasites are now resistant to it. Artesunate is now the drug of choice. It is derived from a Chinese plant. The story goes that during the Vietnam War many North Vietnamese soldiers were falling ill and dying with malaria. The Viet Cong started a crash program to find a plant chemical which would be an effective treatment. They were aided in this effort by Chairman Mao in China. Several compounds found in the Artemisia tree tree in China were effective in killing the malaria parasite. A Chinese chemist isolated and purified Artemisinin from which Artesunate is made. In 2015 Tu Youyou was awarded the Nobel Prize in Medicine/Physiology for her work in this discovery. The drug has saved thousands if not millions of lives.
Artesunate is given intravenously for three doses then in an oral form together with another antimalarial drug for three more days. The results are most often excellent. Some people who have had a serious case of malaria develop severe anemia and need blood transfusion. Some develop a greatly enlarged liver and spleen, ans some suffer from brain damage.
Malaria was present in the U.S. until the 1930’s when DDT eradicated all the mosquito types which could cause the disease. It now occurs mainly in travelers returning from tropical areas. The risk of acquiring malaria can be reduced by taking Malarone or doxycycline when traveling to countries where malaria is prevalent. Also sleeping under insecticide treated nets and avoiding outdoor activity at night or dusk and using insect repellent are all helpful in prevention. A malaria vaccine is now available. It is 60 to 70 percent effective and is given in four doses over time. Work is continuing to find a simpler and more effective vaccine.
