Imagine walking into your house two days before Christmas to find a burglar in your home, looting the presents and valuable items you’ve purchased or painstakingly collected through the years.
Now imagine that the burglar is your son, and he’s holding a gun. It’s the last thing you’ll remember in this life. What could possible go through a father’s mind as his son pulls the trigger?
Those final devastating seconds must have been awful for Clark Hough, who was murdered on Dec. 23, 1986, as he arrived home.
Most of you have never heard of Mr. Hough. He was a quiet, stern man who loved kids so much he made educating them a career. Mr. Hough was my principal at Maplecrest Elementary School in Lebanon, Missouri.
Principal Hough’s death had a significant impact on the community. Teachers, students, parents, community members … we all grieved when he died.
Our family moved from Joplin to Lebanon in 1984. It was standard for my parents to check out the school systems before we moved, which we did often. Dad liked Principal Hough immediately, probably because he was a disciplinarian.
The few memories I have of Mr. Hough include my father talking to him a few times when he dropped us off or picked us up from school. There was always a firm handshake and usually a laugh during a short conversation.
I also remember that Principal Hough had a paddle that you wanted no part of. This was the mid-1980s, so a principal spanking a student wasn’t a big deal. Even though he was short and portly, Mr. Hough was intimidating. In the three years I spent at Maplecrest, I only remember a few of the kids being spanked.
Though strict, Principal Hough was a nice man. He was kind and helpful. He was what you’d expect out of a good elementary school principal.
I’ll never forget watching the news the night he died. What a heart-breaking story. He returns home to find his own son, Brent, robbing the home he grew up in. To make matters worse, he knowingly killed his own father.
Rumors are rumors in a small town, of course. Some said his son conspired with his mother (and Clark’s wife at the time) to kill Mr. Hough. Other said the son needed money for a drug habit, which still seems more plausible.
We were on Christmas break by that time, but Principal Hough’s murder dampened the spirit of many during the holidays. I remember my dad, who didn’t often display sadness, shaking his head and taking some alone time.
One of the lasting memories of elementary school is the assembly honoring Principal Hough when we returned from Christmas Break. The auditorium was packed as fifth-graders through kindergartners filled the room.
Several community members were there. Some spoke about Mr. Hough. Many folks and children cried. I remember our teacher, Mrs. Pace, devoted time in class for any of us who wanted to speak about him. I raised my hand and said simply, “He was nice. I remember he always asked how I was doing.”
Mr. Hough’s son was convicted of second-degree murder and served a long prison term. I often wonder what he’s thought about for 32 years, knowing that he killed not only his father, but also a man loved by so many.
I loved Mr.Hough so much. He was always so nice to me. I am somehow distantly related to him. I’m not sure exactly how. He came to mind out of the blue and I looked him up and found this blog. Thank you for writing this story. I remember hearing abut him passing and bawling my eyes out and cried most of our Christmas break. He sure must have impacted our lives for us to still remember him and thank about him.
He was a good man. I always think about him around Christmas.
Thank you for sharing. Amazingly, his son is no longer in prison.
I really doubt he got 32 years for a travesty of justice by prosecutor plea bargained to SECOND DEGREE MURDER??
It was premeditated First Degree by his SON waited for his Dad to open the Door and SHOT HIM. Typical Lebanon attorney collision of that. Era NO TRIAL!! Disgusting
He was strict. I attended Maplecrest 2nd grade thru 6th. I can still remember being so excited and skipping down the hall to class the first or second week I was there. He yelled at me to STOP!!! and with a stern look told me in no uncertain terms there was no running in the hall! Well I wasn’t running, I was skipping… duh. And thank goodness he had the wisdom to stop me. There’s no telling what kind of delinquent I could have become if he had not got me back on the straight and narrow path of walking down the hall instead of skipping! All I remember is he had mastered the ability to kill any excitement that a kid had about school and their education. It’s funny, those were the only words he ever spoke to me during the entire 5 years I attended.
This reminds me of the quote from Buck Russell… “I don’t think I want to know a six-year-old who isn’t a dreamer or a silly heart. I sure don’t want to know one who takes their student career seriously. I don’t have a college degree. I don’t even have a job. But I know a good kid when I see one. Because they’re ALL good kids.” – Uncle Buck. 1989