My Daddy

Today is my father's birthday. He would have been 83 years old.

He was raised in Beatrice, Nebraska. He had a great childhood. One that our children will never have. He was in farm country and had dogs and horses. He had a bull dog that he loved and grew up with him. He got Pal when he was five years old. Pal died the year Daddy went to college.

His father was the sheriff of Beatrice. Daddy was a popular guy. He played football, was on the swimming team and in the drama club. He loved to sing and dance. He was an acolyte and very involved in the church. He was a happy go lucky guy. My Grandma liked to tell the story about how he got in trouble for not coming fast enough when she called him. He was instructed to come immediately when she called no matter what. So the next time she called him, he rode his horse into the kitchen telling her he didn't want to take the time to get off.

He was working at the bakery in town when my mother went to collect a bill for the trucking company she worked for. Apparently it was love at first sight for him. He bet his best friend, who was working ther with him, that he would marry that girl. They dated and became engaged shortly before he left to join the Marine Corps. He was a member of the Second Marine division and fought in the Pacific. When he returned, my mother and her mother met him in Oregon and they were married.

They ended back in Lincoln with my father going to college and working part time. When I came along, he decided to go back into the service. He joined the army and shortly went to Officer's Training School. My father was one of the last mustangs. That is a person who works his way up from an enlisted man to an officer. After getting his bars, he went to flight school. He loved flying. Either helicopter or fixed wing. You could always see when things were getting to him but once he went flying, espcially his night flights, he came back a different person. He always said it was a wonderful experience. You leave your problems on the ground and up there it's only you and God.

During his career, he served in Korea and Vietnam. Those were hard times. He loved his family and hated being away from us. One of my earliest memories was getting up early in the morning with just him and having our morning "coffee". Mine was a drop of coffee in my milk. At that time we would sit and discuss all the affairs of the world. We had fun. We had serious talks. We laughed. This was special our time. The last time I had this with my father was the day I got married.

My father was a gifted leader. His men admired him and would follow him anywhere. Many a time one of his men would come up to me and tell me what a wonderful man he was. That he would follow my father to "hell and back" if he asked him to. I know that my father never asked his men to do something he himself would not do. I know of a couple of missions that he did in Vietnam that he wouldn't ask his men to do because of the risk.

The military was not the only thing that was my father. In fact, it was only a part of him. He was a very personable person. People were drawn to him. Especially children. He would listen to each one and they knew that he cared about what they had to say. He had a patience and a childlike quality that broke down that adult/child barrier. My counsins were so jealous of my father. They loved him so much and wanted him to be their father. In fact my cousin called my father when he was accepted into West Point before he called his own father. His heart was big and there was room for everyone. My children were fortunate to have been able to spend time with him.

He was a loving husband to my mother. They were together for 47 years. They had a wonderful life together and my father cared for her up until the day she died in his arms. He was lost without her. She was his love and his anchor.

On March 26, 1998, my father collapsed in the doctor's office. He was rushed to the hospital but he held on until my daughter and I arrived. It was hard seeing him lying there hooked up to all those machines. I took his hand and told him it was okay to go to be with my mother. He squeezed my hand. He waited until we had left the room and then he died and went to be with my mother.

There was a memorial service held for him at the Army Retirement Center that he lived. He broke the record of the number of people attending. He had made many friends and touched many lives in his life. He was a man that believed in God, country and family. He loved a party and enjoyed life to the fullest. He thought that if you slept past 6:00 am you had slept half your life away. He loved to laugh and to sing. He was always singing to us. He loved to play golf and he loved football. He was a great influence on me and his grandchildren. We all better for having had him in our lives.

Happy Birthday Daddy! We miss you.