A horrific tragedy befell Nellie Jersak when she was 5 years old, but she refused to let it define her and instead spent the next nine decades living a full, joyful life.
Nellie, who died Nov. 28 at age 96, was the daughter of Oliver and Sarah Ethel Crosswhite. Her father was a lawman brutally slain in January 1932 in what became known as the Young Brothers Massacre.
Ollie Crosswhite was one of six Springfield police and Greene County sheriff’s officers gunned down in the shootout near Brookline — said to be the greatest loss of U.S. law enforcement officers in a single incident other than the 9-11 attack in New York City in 2001.
The bloody gunfight generated headlines nationwide at the time and a half-dozen books and booklets and numerous news media look-backs over the years. Some other members of the lawmen’s families, including her own, gave many interviews recounting that awful winter day.
Nellie declined to dwell on the awful memory.
“Mom didn’t like to talk about it,” says Nellie’s daughter, Nancy Henderson, who lives in Kimberling City. “She always looked forward.”
Her brother, Richard Jersak, who lives in Nixa, agrees: “She was a very positive person, always upbeat about life.”
“She got that from her mom,” says Nancy, referring to her grandmother, Ollie’s widow, who was known by her middle name, Ethel.
“When the officers were killed, their families were given some money based on how many living children they had. Grandma had six — another had died in her arms of diphtheria in 1919. Three were still at home, including our mom. I think Grandma got about $3,000, which was a lot in those days — but even then, it couldn’t last long.
“So Grandma took in ironing, raised chickens, (“Had a cow for milk,” reminds Richard) and grew an acre garden on the big lot where they lived on the north side of Springfield. She was a beautiful seamstress and sewed the kids’ clothes. She made most of their Christmas presents — made Mom a doll house.
“Mom took after Grandma,” Nancy says.
As a youngster, Nellie spent several weeks each summer with her father’s family at Brighton, north of Springfield just across the line into Polk County, where the Crosswhites ran a store. “Mom would sneak chocolate at the store,” Nancy says. “She loved chocolate.”
Nellie's young adult years and family life
Nellie graduated from Senior (now Central) High School in 1943. World War II was raging, and she volunteered at the sprawling O’Reilly General Hospital that the military had established here in 1941 on what today is the campus of Evangel University.
“She would read to the injured soldiers and write letters for them,” Nancy says. “And she went to USO dances at the hospital.”
Nellie hoped to follow an older sister into a job as an operator at the telephone company. “But she was left-handed,” Nancy says.
“She was very left-handed,” confirms Richard. “She even had left-handed scissors.”
Nancy explains that telephone technology of the 1940s required human operators to manually connect calls with cords on a switchboard to link parties for conversation. “The plug-ins were set up for right-handed operators. So they wouldn’t hire Mom.”
Instead, Nellie went to work as an office assistant for an orthopedist, Dr. James Horton, whose office was in the Medical Arts Building at the downtown intersection of South Avenue and Pershing Street.
One day, while riding the building’s elevator to her fifth-floor office, Nellie met Bill Jersak, a dentist who’d recently moved to Springfield from Kingfisher, Oklahoma. Courtship ensued, and they married in 1947.
The newlyweds enjoyed an exotic honeymoon in Cuba, then returned to Springfield and began building a family that eventually included four children — Nancy and Richard, plus another daughter, Louise, who lives in Arizona, and another son, Paul, who died in a boating accident in 1986.
When the kids reached school age and Nellie had some daytime hours free, she again became a hospital volunteer, this time at what was then St. John’s (now Mercy). She was an active member of the hospital’s women’s auxiliary, serving several leadership roles, including as president in the mid-1970s.
Nellie handed out groceries at the Crosslines food pantry. She delivered food to the homebound as a Meals on Wheels driver “in all kinds of weather,” Richard marvels. And she helped with housekeeping and baking goodies at the Ronald McDonald House, which accommodates families of children who are hospital patients.
‘She could sell a leather coat on a hot 95-degree day'
As Nancy pursued a 50-year career in the marketing department at Silver Dollar City, Nellie became interested in the Branson theme park and, in the late 1970s and early ’80s, worked as a saleswoman in the leather shop there.
“She could sell a leather coat on a hot 95-degree day,” says Nancy. “She could sell anything.”
After husband Bill died in 1988, Nellie lived alone in her home on South Kings Avenue near Cox Medical Center for the next 33 years. Son Richard, who had a long career as a salesman for the AT&T/Southwestern Bell phone book’s “Yellow Pages” advertisement section, frequently stopped in.
“We called it ‘Nellie’s Cafe,’” he says with a smile. “I’d go by and have lunch. She would whip up food in nothing flat.”
Richard and Nancy both fondly recall Nellie’s kitchen treats, especially her fried chicken, chili, brownies, peanut brittle, and pies — apple for Nancy, cherry for Richard. “And she always had sugar cookies, decorated and frozen in the freezer.”
Nellie was active in the Presbyterian church. She was a member at Covenant Presbyterian for many years, serving as an elder and engaging in activities of the church’s craft and quilting groups. She later joined Trinity Presbyterian.
“Mom drove her own car until she was 94,” says Nancy, “until she decided on her own to give it up.”
However, life for Nellie wasn’t always easy. She did enjoy remarkable health — “She only took one pill a day, for blood pressure, and she had all her teeth,” Richard notes. But she endured some health challenges, including kidney stones and bladder cancer.
“She had to have her bladder removed eight years ago, and then had to deal with an appliance after that,” says Nancy. “But she took care of it herself. She said tending it became like brushing her teeth.
“She had such a good attitude. She’d square her little shoulders back, just accept it and get on.
“She had a real fighting spirit. She faced adversity head-on. That’s what her mama taught her.”
Queen of The Manor
A couple years ago, Nellie agreed it was time to move to an assisted living facility. Ironically, after decades of independence, a mere three hours after moving from her own house, she suffered a broken hip.
That led to another relocation, this time to The Manor at Elfindale, in August of last year. She immediately plunged into activities there, including crafts and exercise classes. And she took a position on the facility’s resident council, which didn’t surprise her kids. “We figure she’s already formed a council in heaven,” says Nancy.
Richard or Nancy visited Nellie at The Manor almost every day — although on Saturdays and Mondays, Nellie was busy playing bingo. “She was good at it,” says Richard. “Yes,” confirms Nancy, “she won a lot. She had a whole jar of quarters that she’d won. They have a ‘Quarter Store’ once a month, and she’d go and spend her winnings.”
Last February, Nellie was voted Valentine Queen at The Manor. “She made us bow to her for a while,” Richard recalls with a chuckle.
The family was planning a special dinner for Thanksgiving.
“I was supposed to pick her up at 5,” recalls Richard. “She was all dressed up, ready to go. But she called me at 4:20 and said, ‘I can’t move my left leg.’”
Nellie had always been reluctant to “bother” the facility’s caregivers, so she hadn’t pressed the emergency call button at her bedside. Richard didn’t hesitate. He immediately phoned the staff, and nurses quickly determined that she’d suffered a stroke.
Richard and Nancy rushed to the hospital, where Nellie had been transported by ambulance and was admitted. She died five days later.
In a gesture that completes the circle that started with the tragedy that struck when Nellie was a few days shy of her sixth birthday, the family suggested memorial donations be made to the Greene County 100 Club, which provides financial support to the families of fallen local law enforcement officers and firefighters.
“She was sharp as a tack until the very end,” says Richard. He and his sister treasure a note they found from Nellie.
“It was addressed to Nancy and me,” he reveals. ”It said, ‘If something happens to me, I don’t want you to be sad. Think of it as a family reunion.’”
“She was so excited,” Nancy says, “about finally getting to know her dad.”
(Information about the Greene County 100 Club can be found online at www.GreeneCounty100Club.com. The organization’s postal address is 4730 S. National Ave., Suite A1, Springfield, MO 65810.)
