Until a handful of years ago, few people paid attention to whether Joe
Jackson could sign his name. The illiterate South Carolina mill worker, who
later would compile the third highest career batting average in baseball
history, could scratch his head better than he could scratch his name on a
piece of paper. He could scrawl his name, thanks to his wife Kate, who
would have him trace over her example. She even tried to teach him to read
. . . a little. Some forensic experts believe or perceive that Jackson
signed his will on his deathbed, thus the especially fragmented appearance.
A myth. Jackson, a liquor store owner in Greenville, S.C., till his death
in 1951, walked next door to Bolt Drug Store, picked up a ball point pen,
gathered his three witnesses, and in their presence signed the will. The
will is kept in a vault in the county courthouse in Greenville. One of
those witnesses, W. Eugene Estes, was a recent graduate of pharmacy school
43 years ago and fills prescriptions at Fowler's Pharmacy today. "It took
him forever to sign it," Estes recalled. "That's why I remember it so well.
I sign my name in two seconds." Estes remembers Jackson hunkering down
over the document, which remains the focal point of lawsuit pursued by the
beneficiaries of the Jackson estate. He was drawing his name again. "He
(his face) got real close to it," Estes said. "But that's his signature all
right. It looks scratchy, just like I remember him signing it."
Until a handful of years ago, few people paid attention to whether Joe
Jackson could sign his name. The illiterate South Carolina mill worker, who
later would compile the third highest career batting average in baseball
history, could scratch his head better than he could scratch his name on a
piece of paper. He could scrawl his name, thanks to his wife Kate, who
would have him trace over her example. She even tried to teach him to read
. . . a little. Some forensic experts believe or perceive that Jackson
signed his will on his deathbed, thus the especially fragmented appearance.
A myth. Jackson, a liquor store owner in Greenville, S.C., till his death
in 1951, walked next door to Bolt Drug Store, picked up a ball point pen,
gathered his three witnesses, and in their presence signed the will. The
will is kept in a vault in the county courthouse in Greenville. One of
those witnesses, W. Eugene Estes, was a recent graduate of pharmacy school
43 years ago and fills prescriptions at Fowler's Pharmacy today. "It took
him forever to sign it," Estes recalled. "That's why I remember it so well.
I sign my name in two seconds." Estes remembers Jackson hunkering down
over the document, which remains the focal point of lawsuit pursued by the
beneficiaries of the Jackson estate. He was drawing his name again. "He
(his face) got real close to it," Estes said. "But that's his signature all
right. It looks scratchy, just like I remember him signing it."