A full half hour before the funeral last week, the parking lot overflowed and the sanctuary was near capacity. Blanco became a virtual ghost town as residents, along with those who traveled from afar, flocked to the Baptist Church.

The mourners, who continued to arrive until nearly 500 were packed into a facility designed for 300, represented a vast diversity of race, status, education, age and wealth, united as one to commemorate the life of the dearly departed.

Speaker after speaker honored this man with the kind of profound praise typically reserved for the benevolent giants of history…Washington, Lincoln, Martin Luther King. Their words about his life and legacy could not fail to stir the souls of those congregated, convicting them, constructively, of how they’d each fallen short of his daily-demonstrated goodness, while inspiring and encouraging them to follow his example.

What local man warranted this outpouring of honor? Was he a tycoon? Celebrity? War hero? Statesman?

No. It was just Jasper Upshaw, a 95-year-old scrap metal collector of little means who drove a beat up old Ford F-150 and lived in a nondescript house on Mesquite St.

And this begs the question: What about this simple man, whom our general society today would write off as insignificant, could possibly bring so many together to honor his far-reaching, life-changing impact?

Perhaps local dentist Dr. Doug Pautz said it most succinctly in his eulogy addressed to the man laid out before him: “Jasper, my friend, I can describe you in nine words: Love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, kindness, mercy and self-control.”

Students of the Bible might recognize these as the “Fruit of the Spirit.” And to be sure, no look at the life of Jasper could start anywhere other than his Christian faith. It was not the flashy type, nor the stodgy, but rather the rarest variety: The faith that is walked out in daily living. The kind that draws others in rather than pushing them away. The kind that passes on through generations.

Together, over nearly 70 years of marriage, Jasper and surviving wife Nellie raised 16 children in a family which today has grown to include 41 grandchildren, 35 great grandchildren and 5 great-great grandchildren.

“He taught us to work hard, get an education, love one another, and love the Lord,” daughter Betty Jenkins said.

The Christian testimonies and successful careers of so many of his children and grandchildren prove these lessons stuck.

Jasper was engaging and unassuming. All who met him made a new friend. His bright eyes, quick smile, warm hug and always encouraging words were not a persona he turned on and off; they simply reflected his gentle soul.

He was a simple man, yet smart as a whip and well read; a life-long learner and conversationalist with an encyclopedic memory. Not long before his passing, always-hopeful Jasper was planning to write a book and finally earn his high school diploma.

Fun-loving and an avid sports fan, Jasper whole-heartedly encouraged his children and grandchildren in this pursuit, attending games across the state and playing catch for hours on end. Son Willie “Chuggy” Upshaw grew up to be a Major League Baseball star.

Visitors to Blanco often mention the unique character of our town; its pleasant simplicity and decency. More than our buildings, businesses and geographic features, it’s this character that makes our town attractive and memorable, and this comes from the spirit of our citizens.

Unique pockets of culture like this don’t come about by chance; rather, they grow from the character of settlers who, through their shining examples and innate resolve, over time steer a town’s growth towards goodness.

Several families of original settlers still reside here, forming the living bedrock of Blanco. All can claim some credit for its one-of-a-kind character, yet perhaps none more than Jasper. His ancestry and longevity ensure him a position among our founding fathers.

“I don’t remember a time in Blanco when there wasn’t a Jasper in it,” resident Pam Cable said.

But was his purity of character, which radiated through his near-century of living and rubbed off on those who knew him, that in many ways forms the nucleus of our town’s distinctive charm. He was a large part of the beating heart of Blanco.

“Take pride in the foundation your father, your grandfather, has set before you. We’re not mourning, we’re celebrating. His spirit lives in every heart that’s here today,” said son Robert, a vocational minister in Little Rock, who delivered his father’s eulogy.

A tireless, blue-collar worker his entire life – in fact, he died while loading his truck with scrap metal to sell for a few dollars for groceries for his family – Jasper had deep roots in the Blanco community. His grandfather Jim, a freed slave from Virginia, was a founder of Peyton Colony, the community of freedmen formed a few miles outside of town in 1870. Jasper lived where he died, on the same plot of land across from what is now the elementary school, since 1924.

Most of his career, Jasper worked as a master carpenter. He had a hand in virtually every home built in Blanco and the surrounding Hill Country from the Depression through many decades after and could recount details about each and every one of them.

Over the near-century of his life, with so many mouths to feed there were often tough times. Yet his hope and work ethic never wavered.

Recalling times their electricity was shut off or groceries scarce, Robert recounted how one Christmas, after recently losing his employment, Jasper, “loaded up his truck with cans, drove it into Austin, and with what little money he got, he came back and got us all Christmas presents.”

“He took care of his family,” Robert said. “It didn’t matter what he had to sacrifice, what he had to do, where he had to travel – he took care of us, no matter what. He showed us that if we just love the Lord enough, there was nothing we couldn’t face, nothing we couldn’t get through.”

To be sure, de mortuis nihil nisi bonum – “speak only good of the dead” – is a proverb often demonstrated by insincere or grief-driven, exaggerated praises at funerals. While all who knew Jasper knew his lofty tributes were genuine and hard-earned.

For those who didn’t know him, niece Alice Hawkins laid doubts to rest: “Sometimes you go to a funeral and people tell stories … but that ain’t what you remember, that ain’t what you know. But I’ve got to tell you, everything I’ve heard here today is spot on.”

Sad souls gripped by materialism and other earthly pursuits may never really understand how someone so humble, in every way, could leave such a monumental legacy.

“Look around you. White, black, brown, purple, green … whatever … we’re all here, together, rejoicing,” said Robert. “This is what one man who had nothing – but the love of his God, the love of his wife, the love of his family– his is what one man can do. And that’s power.”

Jasper leaves behind few material things. His bright eyes have closed. His sharp mind is asleep. His labor has ceased. Of this man, in this world, three things remain: faith, hope and love.

Many have aspired, yet few in history have truly left behind such a rich inheritance.

Jasper Upshaw’s Family History and the 2013 Peyton Colony Class Reunion videos are available from the Blanco Library.