Rufus "Neely" Hollingsworth

Rufus "Neely" Hollingsworth, 92, was born May 8, 1933, in Adamsville, Tennessee, to Jim and Nannie Barham Hollingsworth and passed away April 14, 2026 in Eads, TN. He was preceded in death by his parents, his wife of 65 years, Earlene Johnson Hollingsworth, one brother, Tommy Roy Hollingsworth, four sisters, Dorothy Hollingsworth, Ina Mae Lambert, Nannie Johnson, and Imogene Pettit; and two sons, Larry Hollingsworth and Mark Hollingsworth.

He is survived by his daughter, Melissa Hollingsworth-Funk (Paul) of Eads, TN, and his son, Terry Hollingsworth (Vania) of Memphis, TN; grandchildren Ashley Hileman (Jared), Daniel Partain (Ling), John Michael Partain, Jayme Hollingsworth, Timmy Gordon (Allie), Mathew Hollingsworth (Laura), and Fabiana McDonnell (Coddie); great-grandchildren Eric Tate, Emerie Hollingsworth, JoJo Partain, Piper Partain, Amelia Gordon, Addy Sue Gordon, Aurora Hollingsworth, Lua McDonnell, and Luca McDonnell; and many extended family members and wonderful friends.

Services will be Saturday, April 25, 2026 at Peebles West Funeral Chapel, 10670 US-64, Somerville TN, with Dr. R. Duke Wheeler officiating. Honorary pallbearers include: Daniel Partain, John Michael Partain, Timmy Gordon, Jared Hileman, Eric Tate, Mathew Hollingsworth and Russell Shaheen.

Interment with full military honors, will be Friday, May 8, 2026, at the West TN State Veterans Cemetery in Memphis, TN. Special thanks to William Funk for the care and respect in organizing the honors service in accordance to Neely’s wishes.

The family also extends heartfelt gratitude to Baptist Trinity Home Health & Hospice, with special recognition to Hayley Hicks, Sara Flood, Totatyna Espinoza, Shirlean Jones, Dana Morris, his personal caregiver, Janaina Sinja Neumann and his PCP of 30 years, Dr. Mary Margaret Hurley.

Those who wish to make donations in his memory may do so to Mid-South Food Bank, Fayette Cares, American Red Cross or a personal choice.

Neely could walk into a room a stranger and leave it having told three stories, made four friends, and caught everyone off guard with a joke they didn’t see coming. As a child, his family made their way from Tennessee to Philippi, Kentucky, then to Caruthersville, Missouri, and finally settled in rural Pemiscot County, Missouri, behind the levee — river country that would remain in his blood for the rest of his life.

He attended Bush Elementary in Pemiscot County and Hayward School in Hayward, Missouri. School, he always said, was best during recess. He grew up in a time when the school calendar bowed to the planting and harvest seasons, and cotton and corn were worked with mules. Life was simple, and by his own telling, it was good.

Those early years were full of the kind of memories he loved to recount. He played marbles for keeps, collected and sold scrap metal along the river during WWII, and picked strawberries after school for five cents a quart. He looked forward to the Saturday matinee where 25 cents would buy a movie ticket, a bag of popcorn and a coke. He crossed the Mississippi River by ferry from Point Pleasant, Missouri to Tennessee for a dime to swim in Reelfoot Lake. He played trombone in the school band. He and his brother shared a black 1931 Plymouth that frequently burned through its brakes. He once brought home a loggerhead turtle and asked his mama to cook it — soaked in salt overnight, he always said it was good.

His mama was a gentle, loving woman who, when he fell sick, would rock him in a blanket and sing “I’ll Fly Away.” His daddy was a hardworking man who shared beef with neighbors during the Depression Era winters and taught his boys to hunt and fish. His favorite uncle, Jack, loved to fish but never ate what he caught. These were the people who made him.

At 18, he enlisted in the United States Navy and reported to basic training in San Diego. From there he went to Treasure Island in San Francisco for three months, then spent 42 months at sea aboard the George A. Johnson, a Destroyer Escort. A Korean War veteran, he served his country with pride, and the sea left its mark on him — literally.

Somewhere along the way, he came ashore one evening and acquired a tattoo on his left forearm of the George A. Johnson herself, coming straight through a rising cloud. The story of how it got there involved a fair amount of spirits and considerably less judgment than he otherwise was known for. Whether he was proud of it depended on the day and who was asking.

After the Navy, he worked at Caterpillar Tractor Company in Peoria, Illinois, building engines. In 1954, he married the love of his life, Earlene Johnson, and together they built a life that anyone who knew them would tell you was the real thing. He loved her completely and without reservation, and when she passed in the summer of 2020, he made no secret of how deeply he missed her. He spoke of her often and openly, the way a man does when he’s loved someone so long and so well that the universe never again feels right without her in it. He missed her every day — and now he doesn’t have to anymore.

In 1959, the land called him back and he answered. He knew farm life from the ground up — sunup to sundown, winter cold on an iron tractor seat, the river wind finding every gap in his coat. It was hard work, and it was his work. In 1963, he settled in the Mississippi delta, and never looked back.

He rooted hard for the St. Louis Cardinals through every season, good and bad, and followed Mississippi State football and baseball with equal devotion. He was a proud member of Goodwill Church of God, and a fisherman who understood that the real point of a fishing trip was never just the fish. He was witty and warm, and when he settled in to tell a story, the room got quiet because everyone knew it was going to be worth it.

With nearly a century of memories, love and legacy behind him, he lived a full life and told it well — but ask anyone who knew him, and they’ll tell you his favorite subject was never himself. It was his children, his grandchildren, and his great-grandchildren. He loved them with a devotion as steady and deep as the river he grew up beside. They were his greatest crop, his proudest harvest, and the audience for his very best stories and jokes.

He was deeply loved and will be missed by all who knew him.