Jim Buck Ross was one of the best all-around politicians

Dec. 30, 1999 – We may very well have lost our best all around politician of the second half of the 20th century with the death of Jim Buck Ross earlier this month. The long time commissioner of agriculture, unlike many other politicians of the era, didn’t traffic in race or other negative issues bantered around in the 1950s and -60s. It wasn’t his style. He was a fun-loving, people- loving fellow from Pelahatchie, who never forgot who he was, where he came from, or who sent him.

He first entered the political arena when cattle testing for various herd diseases was high on the agenda. For a while the department thrived on Mirex for fire ants, as he commandeered a fleet of old WWII DC3s or “gooney birds” — two engine planes that could be flown fairly low while workers dumped out corn cobs soaked in the chemical. When it was determined that Mirex was a possible health hazard, the program stopped and the fire ants thrived.

Southern Airways used a fleet of the DC3s on their smaller lines like the one that came through Oxford, and I have logged many hours on the unpressurized birds.

Most of them were later commandeered for Vietnam so they could be flown over enemy territory with machine guns spitting bullets from the open doors.

Jim Buck’s major appearance always seemed to be saved for the Neshoba County Fair.
One year his theme was food and the importance of Mississippi’s ability to produce it.
He told of having visited one of the country’s most sophisticated nuclear submarines.

The admiral showed him they could be self-sufficient in the submarine with all the things anyone could ever want.
There were health and recreational facilities — you name it they had it — he said.

“How long can you stay down under the water?” Jim Buck said he asked the admiral.
“Until we run out of food,” the admiral admitted.

He immediately launched into a second story about this old miner who had spent most of his life trailing through old gold mines looking for nuggets that might have been left behind.

One day he lost his way and went back and forth in a labyrinth of caves until he became thoroughly turned around.
He wandered and wandered and finally stumbled on something that turned out to be a small lock box.

At first, he said, the fellow thought it had to be gold, but he managed to get it open and it did not contain gold.
“It was food,” Ross said, “and he was glad it wasn’t gold.”

One of my favorite notes from persons whom I consider to be celebrities is from Jim Buck inviting me to be sure to be at the Neshoba County Fair for what was to be one of his last appearances to see his latest invention. It was, he said, something that would make it easier for an old man to rope a cow.

He had several of his staff showing how the cage fit on the front of a pickup with a pole and a hook to hold the lasso as the driver slipped up behind the cow. It was a successful presentation, whether it worked or not.

In recent years I had lost touch with Jim Buck as he retired from public life and his health began to fail. Occasionally I would hear from him through Sid Salter, accountant Vic Murphy, also a former mayor of Pelahatchie, or E.J. Gregory of Okolona, whose grandparents lived in Pelahatchie.

Murphy and I were laughing at the fair last year about Jim Buck having gone to Washington and taking a taxi to the United States Department of Agriculture.

After he had paid the cab driver what was on the meter, the driver asked about a tip.

Jim Buck looked at him sharply for a minute and came up with the best tip he could think of, “Always fertilize before you plant.”
Several years ago, when Murphy was still Mayor he was trying to prevail on Wayne Burke, highway commissioner of the central district to not take down the main traffic light in Pelahatchie, when removing traffic lights became the latest fad in highway signage.

He was at wits end and about to give up, but as a final ploy went by a cabin on the fairgrounds where Burke was visiting. “Mr. Jim Buck Ross put up that stop light when he was mayor and ya’ll better leave it alone,” he threatened Burke in front of the group.
It didn’t save the light, but Murphy is convinced it bought them a little time.

Jim Buck was a good and honest man in times of questionable men. There are hundreds of other stories, most of which we will probably be retelling at the fair this summer.