Sept. 11, 1929-Sept. 29, 2018
Jacqueline Weatherford Aaron passed away in the early morning of Sept. 29, 2018. Her death was peaceful, involved no pain and occurred in her own bed, in Natchitoches, after a very long life; a death befitting someone who selflessly gave so much to so many and always placed the welfare of her family over her own. She has and always will be loved and missed dearly by her children, extended family and friends.
The family made the decision to hold a small, private funeral at Memory Lawn Cemetery in Natchitoches Oct. 6 at 11 that morning. To be sure, the size of the funeral was in no way a measure of the vastly huge number of people whose lives Jacqueline touched during the course of her life.
Jacqueline was born in Kinder Sept. 11, 1929, to Jess and Mabel Weatherford.
She attended Kinder High School, during which time she discovered that she had an abundance of talent in sketch art and dancing. Initially, upon graduation, Jacqueline was torn between going to New York City and trying out for the Rockettes and attending Louisiana State University and enrolling in the nursing program. Her parents vehemently persuaded her to pursue the latter.
While attending LSU, Jacqueline met the love of her life and soul mate, Julius Edward Aaron Jr., “Junior” to those who knew him. Junior was pursuing a degree in civil engineering after having recently been discharged from the U.S. Army Air Corps. After college, the couple married and in the mid-50s, after a few years of moving around to various parts of the country, as was required by Junior’s engineering career, they decided to move to Natchitoches and start a family.
Although she had children late in life, Jacqueline was a mother second to none. Always upbeat and full of energy, as a mother of elementary-aged children in the early ‘70s, she participated as much or more, as a room mother and in various other activities, as the mothers who were 25 years her junior; 25 years that had provided her an additional wisdom and had in no way whatsoever deprived her of energy, physical stamina and a love of life.
Jacqueline was quite a unique and special individual to an amazing degree, who loved to cook and enjoyed her family to the fullest. It would be impossible to completely enumerate each and every example of how special she was, however, a few anecdotes should suffice. During the disco years, she would often observe the dancers on television and state that the dances they were doing were just revamped versions of those from her day. Upon observing Michael Jackson doing the moonwalk, she stated, “I can do that. I just need a few weeks to work on it.” A few weeks later, the doubtful grins of a couple of teenagers were quickly replaced with expressions of amazement as Jacqueline flawlessly moonwalked from one side of the house to the other and back again. Years later, during the making of “Steel Magnolias,” a member of the crew noticed Jacqueline dancing at an event and asked her to be an extra during the filming of the wedding reception scene. She is the black-haired woman in the gold dress, dancing, and telling Tom Skerritt goodbye.
Jacqueline was preceded in death by Junior, her husband of 61 years.
She is survived by her children, Chris Aaron, his wife, Glenda Aaron, and their children, Ryan Aaron, Maddison Aaron and Jason Aaron of Las Vegas, Nev.; Matthew Aaron and his wife, Heather Aaron, and their children, Zachary Aaron, Avery Aaron and Joshua Aaron of Las Vegas, Nev.; David Aaron of Shreveport; and Gerard Aaron of Natchitoches.
When she lost Junior in 2012, although heartbroken, Jacqueline, as usual, tried to remain positive and often stated how she was grateful to God for granting them the time they had together. Nevertheless, it was obvious that she was never quite the same. Thereafter, she would often take out a picture of Junior, look at it for several minutes, smile and relate a particular story of how she still envisioned him. Specifically, she would describe how back in those days, whenever she wanted to go home for a break, she would take a train. Whenever she would return to Baton Rouge, without fail, every time the train would arrive at the station, Junior was intently waiting, leaning against the wall. The minute he saw her, a smile would appear on his face, a grin from ear to ear, which, as Jacqueline would invariably describe it, would illuminate the entire station. Finally, at least in a metaphorical sense, that train has once again pulled into the station, and Junior is no doubt exhibiting that anticipated smile.