Johnny Thomas

Johnny Franklin Thomas of Watertown, SD, and formerly of Waverly, TN, passed away on November 12, 2026, at the impressive age of 84 years and 2 days, despite a diet rich in sodium and a lifelong love affair with Little Debbie snack cakes and Marlboro Reds.

In keeping with his wishes, there will be no funeral service. Johnny chose to be cremated and wanted his ashes to take one last road trip to Tennessee, where they’ll be interred with Margaret, whom he has already gone to find on the far side banks of Jordan.

A short graveside service will be announced at a later date.

Along with sugary snacks, he was also a connoisseur of obituaries, working in a daily dose of reading between browsing classified ads for old tractors, keeping up with the going price of cattle, and the police log.

Another of his favorite activities was shaking his head and rolling his eyes at sentimentality, despite being one of the most sentimental people known to those who loved him.

He would often tell his children not to get “too silly” about writing his own obituary when the day came.

And yet…that is an impossible task.

Johnny Franklin Thomas was born on November 10, 1942, at Fort Jackson in Columbia, SC, to Frank and Sybil (Stanfield) Thomas. He was raised by his grandparents Wesley “Boss” and Nellie Thomas in McEwen, TN. There, he learned how to fish, developed a love of storytelling, and determined that the heartaches of this world are best approached with an open mind, patience, and a sense of humor.

When he was still a boy in school, Johnny’s grandparents met poor health. Fearing separation from his younger brother, Clyde, Johnny took his brother with him and embarked on their first of many adventures when they ran away in the night to try their luck in the big city of Chicago. They had heard they’d find their mother there.

When they found themselves unable to reunite with her, they were unexpectedly taken in by Joe and Helen, immigrants who ran a landscaping company. Joe taught the boys the trade while Helen doted on them, despite not being able to speak English. She raised them into adulthood through a series of loving hugs, warm meals, and hidden cash in their sock bundles.

As Chicago became more of a concrete jungle, however, Johnny and Clyde were forced to find other work as the landscaping company slowly sank. Young Johnny worked as a short-order chef, a janitor, and a bartender. Eventually, it was Joe who would tell Johnny that he should get into the trucking industry because that was where the real money would soon be.

With this in mind, Johnny dazzled a hiring manager with a yarn about being a big-rig driver—despite not having a clue how to actually drive one. To even his own surprise, they hired him and handed him a set of keys without so much as a driving test. He learned on the job, sparking a love of the open road that would span well over half a century.

Most of his years trucking were spent with moving companies. He was particularly fond of his years working for Chicago-based New World Van Lines. In later years, he would haul frozen goods up the East Coast for BWC trucking in Minnesota and, closer to retirement, he hauled hay for various farmers.

Johnny’s trusty co-pilot on many trucking adventures was Clyde, who also eventually became a truck driver. Whether they were careening down a Colorado mountainside in an ice storm or dropping a baby grand piano down an elevator shaft, every wild escapade became a great story—and the basis of family folklore.

His personal favorite story, though, was that of meeting the love of his life, Margaret Louise Matlock. Like the George Strait song, they met in 1980 when she accidentally stole his chair at a bar. It wasn’t long before she had stolen his heart, too, and they were married within a matter of months. Their marriage was comprised of adventure, misadventure, and occasional debates about who made the best biscuits (It was definitely Margaret).

Margaret was diagnosed with cancer in the late 1980s. Johnny cared for her devotedly through that ordeal and various other medical complications and illnesses until her passing in 2007.

Johnny believed that every person had inherent worth and deserved to be loved with kindness and dignity. He taught his children to look beyond differences, imperfections, and circumstances to see the humanity in everyone they met.

Whether through the special bond he shared with his nonverbal cousin, Billy, the deep gratitude he carried for the immigrant family who helped raise him, or the countless strangers whose stories he stopped to hear along the way, Johnny lived a life of quiet compassion.

He taught his children three simple rules: feed your animals before you feed yourself, say only good things about the people you love in the company of others, and if you've got nothing helpful to say, find something helpful to do.

Grateful to have shared Johnny’s life are his son, Frank Thomas (Michele Young) of Texas; daughters: Hallie Thomas of Sioux Falls, SD; Jennifer (Nathan) Mitchell of Watertown, SD; and Carrie Thomas (Josh Smith) of Minnesota. He also leaves behind a vibrant crew of grandchildren: Wesley, Zachary, Meredith, Michael, Hallie, Julian, Jade, Arianna, Celeste, and his special bonus granddaughter, River; along with several great-grandchildren; dear family friend, Helen Enander; and a whole bunch of cherished nieces, nephews, in-laws, and other friends.

Johnny was preceded in death by several of the greatest dogs to have ever lived (in Johnny’s own unbiased opinion), including his former farmhand, a blue heeler mix named Sparky, who survived five of six times being run over—twice by Johnny himself.

Johnny has also rejoined his beloved Margaret; Boss and Nellie; his parents, Frank Thomas and Sybil Thompson; his stepfather, Roger “Billy” Thompson; siblings: Clyde, Joe and Helen; and several dear cousins, aunts, uncles, in-laws, and friends, including his dear sweet friend, Viola Compton, with whom he enjoyed many happy years of companionship after Margaret’s passing.

In lieu of flowers or other memorials, Johnny's children and grandchildren graciously request that donations be made to the Tennessee Wildlife Federation. This will aid in the important mission of replenishing local trout and catfish populations, now that their greatest threat of over 80 years will finally be laid to rest.

The family expresses their gratitude to the staff at Avantara Nursing Home and Prairie Lakes Hospice in Watertown for their exceptional care and kindness during Johnny's final years. Johnny appreciated their warmth and banter just as much as he did from his own family. As his memory began to slip, he would often confuse the CNAs who worked with him for his granddaughters, whom he loved enormously. This is a testament to the level of comfort he felt in their care.