Jo Ann Wilbanks
There are some lives that simply cannot be summed up in a few paragraphs. Jo Ann's was one of them. She lived with quiet determination, unwavering love, and a work ethic that never slowed. If you knew her, you knew that her greatest acco...
February 27, 1939 – July 30, 2026
There are some lives that simply cannot be summed up in a few paragraphs. Jo Ann's was one of them. She lived with quiet determination, unwavering love, and a work ethic that never slowed. If you knew her, you knew that her greatest accomplishments were never the things she earned—they were the lives she shaped.
Jo Ann's story began with humble beginnings. One of six siblings, she learned the value of hard work at an early age. Among her daily chores was hauling the family's laundry to the creek to wash by hand before bringing it home to iron. Those early years helped shape the resilient, resourceful, and selfless woman she would become—a woman who never shied away from hard work and always found a way to care for those she loved.
Jo Ann was a trailblazer long before anyone used that word. She became the first woman machine operator to retire from the International Paper Mill in Domino after 22 years of dedicated service. It wasn't an easy road. During those years, she endured the heartbreaking loss of her husband, leaving her to raise five children on her own, ranging in age from just 10 to 18. Somehow, she carried both the weight of providing for her family and the responsibility of nurturing them with love, strength, and grace. Her children never doubted they were loved, and to this day they will tell you she was the very best Mama they could have ever been blessed with.
Whether she was coming home from a day shift or a night shift at the mill, Jo Ann rarely slowed down. She found peace wherever nature could be found. Whether she was walking the lakeside searching for arrowheads, discovering pieces of petrified wood, uncovering old bottles with stories of their own, or sitting quietly beside the water with a fishing pole in her hand, she was happiest outdoors. Her collections became treasured keepsakes, and her freezer was rarely empty with fish she had caught and vegetables she had lovingly grown and preserved from her garden. No matter how full her days were, she always found time to prepare a meal. Those fortunate enough to gather around her table knew they were about to enjoy the very best cooking, made with the same love she poured into everything she did.
Her hands were rarely still. As the weather turned cold, she spent countless winter evenings turning worn-out clothing, scraps of fabric, and hand-me-downs into beautiful quilts. What others considered leftovers, Jo Ann transformed into keepsakes that wrapped generations of family and friends in warmth and love. Every stitch carried a little piece of her heart.
Spring and summer belonged to her gardens. She found joy with her hands in the soil, tending rows of vegetables that helped feed her family and creating flowerbeds that surrounded her home with color and life. Scattered throughout the property was her one-of-a-kind rock garden, where treasured pieces of petrified wood and thriving cacti reflected her lifelong love of collecting nature's hidden treasures. To Jo Ann, a garden wasn't just something to grow—it was something to nurture, enjoy, and share, much like the family she loved so deeply.
Jo Ann's home was more than just a house—it was a refuge. The front door was always open, and the neighborhood children came and went as if it were their own home. There was always something to eat and room for one more. Her love reached far beyond her own family, and over the years she welcomed more than one child into her home, raising and loving them as if they had always belonged. That was simply who she was.
Her family tree became one of her greatest blessings. Jo Ann was a devoted mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-great-grandmother. But titles alone could never describe what she meant to those around her. To family, friends, neighbors, and even those who had only just met her, she was simply "Me-Maw." Somehow, everyone seemed to claim her as their own, and she had enough love to make each one feel like family.
Jo Ann leaves behind far more than memories. She leaves a legacy of perseverance, generosity, humility, and unconditional love. She taught those around her that life's greatest riches are not measured by what we own, but by how faithfully we care for others, how hard we work, and how deeply we love.
Though her hands have been laid to rest, their work lives on—in the quilts that warm us, the gardens she planted, the meals she lovingly prepared, the treasures she discovered, the family she raised, the children she welcomed, and the countless hearts forever grateful to have called her our Me-Maw.
She was preceded in death by her husband, Edward Dean Wilbanks, Sr.; her son, Lindell David Wilbanks; great-grandson, Isaiah Wilbanks; her parents, Floyd and Mildred Young; her siblings, Robert Young, Mary Lou Sykes, Susie Nell Thompson, Sam Young, Lilly Gail Arnold; and son-in-law, Billy Ash.
She is survived by her children, Edward Dean Wilbanks, Jr. ‘Deano’ (Tammy), Barbara Ash, Marla Wilbanks (Mark Stevens), Norma Jane Briggs (Steven); grandchildren, Leslie Williams, James Robert ‘Jim Bob’ Price, Bonnie Lancia, Eddie Pipes, Samuel Dean Wilbanks, Lindsey Jo Wilbanks-Choate, Zakkary Briggs, Bobby Ash, Tommy Stevens; 17 great grandchildren and 1 great-great grandchild; along with a host of nieces, nephews, and close friends.
A graveside service honoring Mrs. Wilbanks will be held at 9:00 AM on Monday, August 3, 2026, at Redwater Cemetery.
Courtesy of Texarkana Funeral Home.