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Post by HighCotton on Jun 17, 2017 6:03:40 GMT -5
With Father's Day upon us, I took the opportunity to have a few long chats with my Dad this week. I am still fortunate to have him around. We talked mostly of our days on the farm. He talked of the long hours of work and apologized for the many mornings, especially spring and harvest when we would get up at 4 am and head to the fields. He put me on a tractor at 6 years old and I was in heaven. I loved being with him and I loved operating any type of machinery we had on the farm. I thought it was fun. He talked of the many mornings and evenings that he couldn't have made it without my help. Financially times were tough for him and I didn't realize the seriousness at such a young age.
Then he spoke of one specific incident which still haunts him. I was 8 or 9 years old and we headed to the fields after dinner one evening. I was on our Oliver 88 chopping corn stalks and he was on the Massey Harris 44 disking behind me. I loved evening like this. Our farm was along Hwy 49 right across from Morgan Twsp school south of Valparaiso. In those days, the fields were smaller sections as my Grandpa believed in leaving fence rows and hedges of mulberry trees for the birds and wildlife. As we were raising the dust, I came to the end of a field and I knew I couldn't make a tight turn with the tractor and decided to cut across an end section of a hedge row and swing the Oliver back on the home stretch for the last swath. The problem was, with the Heat-Houser, a kind of canvas cab with windows that directed some of the engine heat to the cab, my vision was impaired and I didn't see the 10" mulberry tree I would try to take down with my right rear tire. With a narrow front end, and the rear toppling severely to the heights, I quickly slammed on both brakes. Crunch went the tree! Dang near popped my eye teeth out!
My Dad had been heading directly toward me as we was on the end rows. He saw the whole thing happen and declares to this day that an Angel of the Lord kept that tractor from flipping on me! To this day, he and my mom pray for angels' protection for all of the kids down through the great grandkids every single morning. It is a major part of their daily devotions!
We talked the other day of our discussion as we unhooked the implements and put the tractors in the barn. It was pretty much a one sided chat. He said, "Whatever you do, Don't you ever say a single word of what just happened to your Mom! Or I will never get you on a tractor again!"
Sometime in the past years, my Mom eventually heard the story...but it never came out of me! No way would I ever risk the doom of not sitting on a tractor again!
That evening, as we walked to the house, my Dad stopped. He took a quick look over the farm and the surroundings. And then he grabbed me...and he hugged me. There were no words. None be said. He was still quivering.
Thanks for letting me reminisce a bit here! I'd love to read any of your memories!
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Post by Russ Koon on Jun 17, 2017 10:16:32 GMT -5
Good story, HCG!
I don't have any that dramatic, but do have several fond memories of working with my dad although it was in a less necessary capacity. He was a "body-bumper" most of the time while I was growing up. That was the term for a body and fender repairman in the body shops. He was skilled in the older school of body repair that placed replacement at about the same level as failure, and saved every fender or body panel could be massaged back to it's original contours with a minimum of lead filler (no "mud"). The shops worked half days on Saturdays as a norm, and I often would join him when he had something I could reasonably be of use on, such as removing trim pieces from the next patient in line for major body work.
Later, on the small farm we moved to when we left the South Bend area to northern Monroe County, we worked together on various farm projects, home repairs, and vehicle repairs and maintenance. Judging from my level of expertise 60 years later, it would be easy to think I had been a very poor student, but I did pay attention sometimes 8^).
One particular instance comes to mind when I think of us working together. I was about 14, and at 5' 9" had grown an inch or so taller than Dad and probably outweighed him by fifteen pounds, and was fairly athletic and feeling my oats. One afternoon we were running to the feedstore for a load of chicken feed. A storm was rolling in when we got home with the four hundred-pound bags in the trunk of Dad's '54 Lincoln, and it looked like we were going to get very wet and be carrying a heavy load on some very slick clay by the time we got the feed to the barn. Dad said he thought he could still make it in one trip ( he'd worked in a feed mill when he was just out of high school ). He sat one bag across the rear fender, tossed the other over his left shoulder, then turned and lifted the first one off the fender and onto his right hip and took off at a fast walk for the barn about fifty yards away! He didn't dare me to try it, but I think he was well aware of the challenge it presented and I felt both the challenge and the implied confidence he had that I might be able to match his feat. I did, but with a renewed respect for his wiry strength.... and great relief that the barn wasn't ten yards further away!
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Post by Pinoc on Jun 17, 2017 10:28:26 GMT -5
Thanks for sharing. My father went home to be with The Lord a couple years ago now and I miss him daily. I told him the day he passed that besides my wife he was my best friend and he told me the same. Can't ask for much more than that. I could fill books with all he taught me about fishing, hunting and life in general and when I would joke with him about knowing more than he did about something he would always say to me "You should know more because you know everything I have taught you plus the little you have learned on your own". I pray my sons will think the same of me once I am gone. Thanks for giving me this moment to share.
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Post by jjas on Jun 17, 2017 10:47:16 GMT -5
I enjoy reading these stories about your fathers...
Not to be a downer, but I lost my father when I was 2 1/2 years old. I obviously have no memories of him. My mother passed when I was 22.
Point? Enjoy your parents while you have them and listen to what they have to say. I wish mine had been around on many occasions in my life as I've been on my own for a very long time.
And while I can't change that, I've tried my very best to make sure my kids knew that I loved them and that I've done my best to help them while they are growing up and trying to figure out their path in life.
In the end, I hope my kids have wonderful memories of me and their mother when we are gone and that they will want to share those stories with others.
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Post by duff on Jun 17, 2017 12:14:13 GMT -5
Great stories guys. My best memories are sitting in church asking every 10 min how much longer for church to be over. We hit the river every sunday, that we could anyways.
Second was the day I brought some rabbit in from a hunt. Maybe 12 or 13. He made me feel good about putting food on the table.
Finally his devotion to me and my siblings was second to none. Always coaching, working and taking care of us. Great role model.
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Post by HighCotton on Jun 17, 2017 14:13:10 GMT -5
I enjoy reading these stories about your fathers... Not to be a downer, but I lost my father when I was 2 1/2 years old. I obviously have no memories of him. My mother passed when I was 22. Point? Enjoy your parents while you have them and listen to what they have to say. I wish mine had been around on many occasions in my life as I've been on my own for a very long time. And while I can't change that, I've tried my very best to make sure my kids knew that I loved them and that I've done my best to help them while they are growing up and trying to figure out their path in life. In the end, I hope my kids have wonderful memories of me and their mother when we are gone and that they will want to share those stories with others. You're not at all a downer. I know that there are those among us that didn't have a chance to know their Dads. That to me is a bit saddening. But, it also makes me realize how fortunate I am to have my Dad still around. You make good points! I don't take the time I have left with my Dad for granted! |
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Post by scrub-buster on Jun 17, 2017 16:17:14 GMT -5
I have a hard time working on projects with my Dad. We have 2 opposite approaches to accomplishing the same job. I still enjoy spending time with him even though we butt heads. Since he retired we have been spending a lot more time getting ready for hunting season. He likes to walk to and from our stands together. The older I get the more time I want to spend with him.
One of my fondest memories was my first deer kill. We were in a permanent tree stand about 15' up or so. I was in the 6th grade. Neither one of us had even heard of a safety harness back then. A fat doe walked by our stand. As I raised the single shot 16g to my shoulder I accidentally pulled the trigger. I guess I was nervous. I wasn't expecting the recoil and it knocked my backwards out of the stand. All I remember seeing is his big hand flying at me. He grabbed the chest of my coveralls and threw me to the floor of the stand. I believe he saved me from serious injury or even death that day. We climbed down from the stand and went to where the doe was standing. We found a chunk of fat and a few drops of blood. Somehow I had hit the doe even though I never looked through the scope. He told me that I probably didn't kill it but we would follow the blood as long as we could. We kept finding small drops every now and then on the trail down the hill. When we got to the dry creek bed at the bottom there was the doe laying on the other side. I had skimmed the bottom of her stomach and when she jumped the creek her stomach ripped open when she landed. It was a gruesome sight. Her guts were all pulled out. We were both very excited about my first deer. It has led me to a lifetime of hunting. It's a memory that I will never forget.
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Post by stevein on Jun 18, 2017 11:42:16 GMT -5
I remember several great memories with my Dad. Even though we butted heads over several issues the good still shines today. I remember Dad helping me build a kite from scratch, not from a kit. He showed me how to adjust the yoke to give it lift and control. Dad helping me with a Pinewood derby car. We chucked the axles in a drill and polished them with fine sandpaper then lubed them with graphite. My first squirrel as if it happened yesterday. Dad taught me how to aim the rifle, load it, the safety, and most of all the safe handling of it. The squirrel was up in a hickory cutting nuts. I used another tree to lean against and when the crosshairs were on it I shot. Big stuff to a 10 year old. I helped Dad on a couple of engine rebuilds. Also usual maintenance like brakes, tune ups, oil changes etc. We never went anywhere without the tool boxes being packed. Dad taught me plumbing and electricity. He made a circuit tester out of two light bulb sockets. I do not think there was anything he would not tackle around the home. Remember the old tube TV's? Dad was an awesome shot with his Ithaca 16 gauge. I don't remember him ever missing a rabbit and they never had shot in the butt. He said he timed his shots for when the rabbit was stretched out not like me and my brothers that shot whenever we could. Dad smoked cigars and never in the house. After he died Mom asked me to check her oil in the car. Now when Dad smoked he had the habit of laying a cigar down until he could get back to it. When I opened the hood there was a half smoked cigar on the air cleaner. No cigar since has tasted better. I still leave a half smoked cigar on his marker when I visit.  |
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Post by welder on Jun 18, 2017 20:32:59 GMT -5
I remember several great memories with my Dad. Even though we butted heads over several issues the good still shines today. I remember Dad helping me build a kite from scratch, not from a kit. He showed me how to adjust the yoke to give it lift and control. Dad helping me with a Pinewood derby car. We chucked the axles in a drill and polished them with fine sandpaper then lubed them with graphite. My first squirrel as if it happened yesterday. Dad taught me how to aim the rifle, load it, the safety, and most of all the safe handling of it. The squirrel was up in a hickory cutting nuts. I used another tree to lean against and when the crosshairs were on it I shot. Big stuff to a 10 year old. I helped Dad on a couple of engine rebuilds. Also usual maintenance like brakes, tune ups, oil changes etc. We never went anywhere without the tool boxes being packed. Dad taught me plumbing and electricity. He made a circuit tester out of two light bulb sockets. I do not think there was anything he would not tackle around the home. Remember the old tube TV's? Dad was an awesome shot with his Ithaca 16 gauge. I don't remember him ever missing a rabbit and they never had shot in the butt. He said he timed his shots for when the rabbit was stretched out not like me and my brothers that shot whenever we could. Dad smoked cigars and never in the house. After he died Mom asked me to check her oil in the car. Now when Dad smoked he had the habit of laying a cigar down until he could get back to it. When I opened the hood there was a half smoked cigar on the air cleaner. No cigar since has tasted better. I still leave a half smoked cigar on his marker when I visit. GREAT STORY! I leave a pinch of Skoal straight long cut for Dad when I "visit" him. Man, it has been 16 years and I still think about him LITERALLY about every 10 minutes.I sure miss him. Happy Father's day. |
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Post by Jamie Brooks 1John5:13 on Jun 18, 2017 21:21:01 GMT -5
I have very few memories of mine. God says he is the father to the fatherless. This is what I have known.
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Post by deadeer on Jun 19, 2017 8:58:40 GMT -5
Made memories with my 6yo boy. We burnt some powder at the range in the morning, then went fishing in the afternoon. He is a crack shot with his 22, and was reeling the fish in left and right. He even learned how to cast a spinning rod and caught 2 fish on it before we called it a day. Cant ask for a better fathers day than that!
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Post by Deleted on Jun 19, 2017 9:55:36 GMT -5
My three sons bought me a new broom, two types of shovels, and a garden metal rake. I guess my work with them is not finished. I lost my father the same year I had my near death. He died in April and I in July of 03. Maybe he helped me get there and return back. When I return I will ask. My dad started me on hunting and to enjoy the precious things in life. He was firm, but let the string out as far as I needed as a boy.
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