Memories of Dad

The following is a sampling of responses men of the congregation gave when asked for special memories of their dad. George Holloway said, “My fondest memories with my Dad were him teaching me to drive at 6 or 7 years old. He had about 30 cows, and he would hop in the bed of the old Ford pickup, throw out hay bales to the cows and I would steer the truck. My feet did not reach the gas pedal or clutch.”

Scotty Ford-Jones recalls “night fishing with my dad when I was young.” Dr. Mulkey wrote, “A favorite is my dad playing golf with us on my son's wedding day. He was 80. He beat us all: John Marc, his father-in-law to be, and me.”

Fred Griffith said, “I remember my Dad hitting softballs and playing a catching game called $5.00 with my brothers and sisters. I remember going out and plowing the fields with my Dad, trapping muskrats in the dead of winter, hunting, and staying out all night catching catfish in the Maumee River in Ohio. There were family and Scout camping trips he took us on. We never laughed so hard as the time he tried to make donuts without the baking soda and it stuck to the bottom of the pan and never rose out of the grease (burned black on the bottom of the pan). And, of course, the time he forgot me at the ball park (6 miles from home), loaded up all the kids--with one boy short--and then came all the way back to find me. My dad is the best! Oh yeah . . . hand cranking all of that homemade ice cream. That was sweet!”

Bill Batchelor wrote, “I was the oldest of five kids and my Dad was strict with us, he had to be. Looking back, I remember that he handled each one of us differently, based on our personalities. He was not very under- standing when we did something bad: "You know better!” However, when we had a crisis in our lives, he was a tower of understanding and strength. I am grateful that I had a tough but loving father and I learned a lot about "growing up" when my mother said: "Wait 'till your father gets home!”

Dennis Bucher said, “I remember my father in many ways: He was a hard worker as a Laundry and Cleaning man who would be on and off his truck picking up and delivering cleaning. He was a Roman Catholic for twenty years of his marriage to my mother and eventually became a member of my mother's Protestant church. He also became a Mason and with only a sixth grade education, he was able to work himself up through the chairs. His third and final heart attack claimed his life at the early age of 63. He was always proud of me and along with my mother supported my brother and me in everything we did.”

Lou Herouart mused, “I think the most important phrase he said to me was ‘Always treat people the way you would like to be treated.’ He never went to church with us but made sure we went with our mother. He loved us and always wanted us to tell the truth about anything that we were involved in. He used many phrases that I live by still today, don’t judge a book by it’s cover, first impressions are lasting, and count to ten when you’re tempted to do something before you act.”

Don Seebold wrote, “One memory that pops into my head occasionally is a funny moment for me and embarrassing for my father. As a youth I attended the baseball games my father played in and many times had the task of retrieving his home runs. As a youngster I was very proud of my father’s ability to hit the baseball a very long way. However, the moment I remember most involved what should have been an infield hit. It was at an all star game that my father was playing in at Bowman Field in Williamsport, which was a minor league field for the Mets at the time. He took his usual mighty swing but barely made contact and the ball rolled slowly down the third base line. Well, my father wasn’t fast and with his hitting ability the third baseman was playing deep and had a long run to the ball. By the time the fielder grabbed the ball and threw to first my father had already managed to trip himself and do a flip over the first base bag, never contacting the bag. My father stood up and the first baseman calmly walked over to him and tagged him out. It seemed everyone at the ball park was roaring with laughter- except my father. He did manage a smile when he walked back to the dugout and I greeted him with ‘Good hit, Dad. Did you have a nice trip?’ I am sure this was a moment he would rather I forget, but we do laugh about it from time to time.

Richard Hardy related, “During the Depression years I lived with my grandparents on their farm as there was ample food and milk for a growing boy. Many of my childhood memories therefore are of my grandfather. I followed his footsteps in the red Georgia clay as he plowed the fields. I can recall wondering, what will I do if something ever happens to Granddaddy?”
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“Honor your father and mother . . .” Ephesians 6:2