A Father’s Tale
Dad’s been gone for a little over 6 years now. It hardly seems possible. He grew up all over Virginia, but mostly the Shenandoah Valley. Dad was the son of a preacher man, which sort of made them a family of drifters. He was the oldest of five children; three boys and two girls. One of his sisters, Polly, died as an infant. That was pretty traumatic for the family, as it would be for any family. A traveling doctor came through, as I remember it told, and gave my dad, Uncle Jim and Polly each a shot for the flu or something like that. Polly did not do well with the shot and was quickly gone. Dad and Uncle Jim were later joined by Aunt Alice and Uncle David. I remember seeing a picture of Aunt Polly. They took it after she died, realizing that they did not have a picture of her at all and they had no choice.
I think granddaddy studied to become a minister in the Methodist Church in Washington, DC, so they lived there for a few years. I believe they had other family there at the time too. I remember Aunt Alice talking about some relatives in that area. I also remember Granddaddy saying that he was walking down the street in DC one day and along came President Harry S. Truman. I kinda thought he was just making up tales, but he was a preacher, so he could not lie! As a kid, I didn’t know that Truman was known as The Incredible Walking President. I later did a report in school on President Truman and realized that Granddaddy may be the only person I know that has met a United States President. Who knows, I may change that one day.
I think dad was too small to have known if he had seen the President, and most of his childhood was spent in the Shenandoah Valley. When they lived in Winchester he attended James Wood High School and he met a girl there named Barbara Barton. On Christmas Eve, he proposed and in June of 1963 they were married. Dad and mom both were born into the era of WWII and married in the era of Camelot. It was a promising time and a scary time too. The threat of nuclear was imminent and President Kennedy was killed not long after they were married. It had to be tough having that much life ahead of you and the realization that it could all end in a flash, literally.
Dad worked very hard to provide for his growing family. He worked two jobs most of his life. One of his jobs was at the Virginian Truck Stop. It was a great family owned and operated business. Even though it was a truck stop, it was a family stop too. Lots of people ate there on Sunday after church. My very first job was there as well. Everyone knew me as Harry’s boy and the owners took care of me like I was their own. Which meant that if I screwed up, they had permission to straighten me out. I remember them wanting to make sure that my grades were always good and they even gave me rides home if my parents could not. The old saying “It takes a village to raise a child” was true in my case. They also had kids my age in school, so they knew what it was like to keep the family going.
Our dad was also a volunteer most of his life. He began volunteering for the fire department as a teenager. The fire hall became his second home. If he wasn’t at home, we always knew where to find him. He and mom also volunteered at church a lot and were our youth leaders for many years. They both believed in giving to the community. It may have been partly because of the way dad was raised, with granddaddy always being in service to his community.
When dad passed, the entire county Fire, Rescue, and Police paid their respects. I had never seen anything like it before. He never took us to a funeral for a fireman. Toms Brook Volunteer Fire Department, where he had volunteered for most of his life, provided a truck to carry him to his final resting place. We drove through all of Shenandoah County on the way to the cemetery. As we made our way through each town, there were fire trucks, rescue squads and police cars waiting for us. Hats in hand, full dress uniform and lights without sirens welcomed us, comforted us and bid a deeply felt fond farewell. I knew he was a good father, a good son and a good man. I did not know how much of a good neighbor he had been until that very moment. I was unprepared, to say the least, but it was one last blessed lesson from the man I knew, who was sent to teach me so much. He had been a part of that “village” since he had been a boy, raising his boys and seeing his grandchildren begin to grow. He gave to the community and the community gave back. His fire department still holds blood drives in his memory.
My very first Father’s Day after my dad passed was also my birthday. It was a day I will never forget. It was a day that destiny laid it’s hand on, and who knows, maybe my dad did too. That day I met for the first time, the man who would later become my Father-In-Law. My future in-laws had no idea it was my birthday. I was joining them for a family Father’s Day lunch out. They had been told that my dad had recently passed and I think they wanted me to have a good day. I knew the moment I met him that one day I would call him dad too. Some people call it “sight” or “knowing”. I think I get it from my grandmaw Barton. She always had visions and knew what was going on. I come by it honest. It was a great day.
Happy Father’s Day!