Vern Fernandes
The Source
Contrary to what some might think, Jacksonville’s rich heritage is not so much made of Ferris Wheels, colleges, state institutions or historic homes, but of people. …the people behind these institutions and an even larger group of folks whose statue won’t appear in any lobby. That’s why I miss some of them…like Vern Fernandes. And to anyone who knew the rotund little bulldog, it was Colonel Vern Fernandes, Marine Corps retired. He didn’t have to wear the eagle on his lapel for you to know that Vern was a colonel. He looked like a colonel, he walked like a colonel, and Lord knows he barked like a colonel. Vern didn’t mean to bark. It was innate. I suspect he was born with that gravelly basso profundo voice and one day someone said, “Good Lord, Vern! You’ve gotta be a Marine!” After his career in the Corps, his last name drew him quite naturally back to Jacksonville where he became a banker, an actor, a civic promoter, and perhaps most notably a fund raiser for any worthwhile cause in town. One of the many reasons I never became a Girl Scout were the cookies sales. I’ll do anything to get out of selling. Vern was born to the job. I once asked him why he was so good at soliciting donations for the town’s various needy ventures. He told me (well actually, he barked at me), “Ken! If I’m going to sell you something I truly believe that it will do you good. I’m doing you a favor!” I believed him. I always believed Vern. One day I believed him so surely that I feared bloodshed. I’d been asked to do the keynote address at the rededicated grave of General Grierson and the research into the speech had taken several months plus many hours of reading. A group of U.S. Cavalry came riding up through North Cemetery, the sunny dais was jam-packed with local office holders and each was instructed to limit his comments to five minutes, giving adequate time for the eloquent Grierson oratory I was about to present. Mayor Tendick spoke briefly, Vern gave a few remarks, an assortment of other kept to their allotted time then a man from the State of Illinois rose to give his few brief remarks. But he didn’t. He proceeded to give the entire history of General Grierson. He was giving my speech! Channel 20’s cameras were getting ready to film my keynote while I sat there madly crossing out most of what I’d planned to say. The colonel saw what was developing. He climbed down from his side of the platform and when I felt a tug on my leg I could see it was a steaming Vern Fernandes. “Ken!” he seethed in a barking whisper, “That son-of-a-gun is giving your speech!” I said, “I know it, Vern! What should we do?” He said, “The cavalry has guns. I’ll have him shot!” The cavalry did indeed have guns though I doubt they were loaded with real bullets, and I managed to hold the little colonel back from murdering an state official on live television. I have no idea what I actually said but it was the Readers’ Digest version of the famous Civil War general. Whether it was raise funds for United Way, soliciting Theatre Guild memberships, securing support for the YMCA or shooting long-winded speakers, Vern got things done. I drive by I.C. and Mac, I marvel at the size and scope of ISD and IBSSS, I soak up the sheer beauty and grace of our community, and I realize again that these parks, institutions, and historical landmarks were not simply plopped down upon the Illinois Prairie by some benevolent genie in a bottle. Someone worked to put them there. Someone cared enough about Jacksonville and its citizens to work tirelessly making life just a bit better. And of course anyone who tries to improve any town will set himself up for criticism from those who generally never lift a finger or pay a dime toward civic causes. I hope that today’s movers and shakers are encouraged by the memory of those who’d gone before. I hope they remember the barking colonel.