A Story about Dad

[From a correspondence between me and John, my brother, some time ago.] 

 You mentioned the truck incident. Well, I was there when Dad got that sucker out of the mud. I saw the whole thing. We spent a significant amount of time trying to get the truck out of the mud using driftwood, rocks, and other stuff. No good. It was a case of Dad want to "try out" the 4 wheel drive. I'm sure he "tried out" your GTO. He "tried out" my Yamaha 400, and unfortunately wrecked it. Anyway, he was out there with Randy and me and the "lock outs" didn't work. So it wasn't 4 wheel drive. Just rear wheel. We tried and tried. No good. We decided to have Randy hitchhike back to town for a tow truck. Randy disappeared. Dad and me still worked on it. No good. Finally, Dad got more-or-less enraged, jumped in and put it in reverse and floored the gas pedal and that thing was throwing rooster tails of mud like out at the mud drags. (Unfortunately the passenger side door was open and became blanketed on the inside with thick gooey mud) Those tires spun for a while. Nevertheless the thing slowly began to move and then suddenly it just roared up out of the hole. Dad stopped. Put it in drive and said "Let's go!". Just like that. No fanfare. Get-er-done! You probably know the rest of the story. How we met up with Randy on the highway. He had procured a tow truck. We picked him up went into town, into a car wash and washed the truck inside and out. I say we, it was mostly Dad. Back then Dad was a kind of "take charge" and "get it done" type of a guy. Incidentally, as far as I know that was the last time that truck was washed at a car wash.

This incident remains one of my favorite Dad stories.

I like the stories that make Dad out to be a no nonsense, take the bull by the horns, take care of business, blustery, tough, rampaging, wrath of God, father type! The part of his personality that is snipey, silly, and condescending, or hyper-critical is not my favorite version of him. I will always remember him as the guy who cut his own cast off his leg, hit home runs in softball at age 42, backed that truck out of the mud, coached teams, rescued you from the current at the coast, and survived heat stroke, and pneumonia a couple times and a motorcycle wreck at age 76. He was always loving, fair, and honest with us. His anger was (mostly) justified, and he had to rise up above the energy of three crazy boys and a daughter.

Ol' Pop! A hundred years of him acting like a grumpy old man, could never erase the legacy of THIS guy...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looked sort of like this...