Father's Day

Had been thinking about this, but one of the fatherly chores, talking to kid's who've lost a pet, kicked it to a back burner. As it was, by the time I could get there they'd already buried it.

First job I remember him having was at a bakery. Mainly remember that because of the smell; we got to visit him at work once and I still remember the aroma of fresh bread.
I mentioned a time or two that Dad was on the Highway Patrol. Joined when I was in the first grade. His first assignment got us transferred to another city, after a year there we were transferred to a small town. Stayed there for quite a while, then he applied for and got transfer from road work to doing safety education classes, where he stayed until he retired.

I remember lots of things. Including his spending very little time around for long stretches. When transferred to the small town he was the only trooper in the county, which meant he was always on call. Days off, vacation, just in from 18-20 hours on, the phone could ring and off he'd go. Time after time. I remember him coming in from bad storms and flooding, being home long enough to eat and dry off, then going back out. Getting to bed after a long day and getting up a couple of hours later when the phone rang, to go out and work another accident.

Most of that he never spoke of around me or my sister, I'd just hear bits & pieces when he spoke to Mom. I know at times he was ready to give up; between lousy pay and long hours and the stress, I really don't know why he didn't at times. Especially after some particularly bloody accident involving kids; they really messed with him.

I mentioned lousy pay. For a guy with a wife and two kids, very lousy pay. So on the days he didn't get called out, he often went to a part-time job, working at a salvage yard or for some farmer during harvest, something to bring in some more money. I can't call it 'extra' money, it was all needed. One time the car started leaking oil; blown head gasket. No way could we afford to pay someone to do it, so he borrowed a manual and a couple of tools from a mechanic and did it himself. I didn't understand for a long time how much he sweated over having the family car in his hands on a repair that could royally screw the engine if he did something wrong; but he did it right, and it never had another problem with it.

The state finally came up with the funds to hire enough troopers that there would now be at least two in each county, so Dad got some actual time off. But they didn't have enough funds to get a car for everyone, so when he was getting off Dad would go pick up the other guy who'd drive him home and take the car. Fun, fun, but at least it meant he actually had time when he didn't dread the phone ringing.

Somehow, through all this he managed to deal with two kids with their assorted demands/problems/hurts/questions and all the rest. He taught me to use tools, to fish, to shoot & hunt. And to paddle my butt when required(generally well called-for when it happened). I can't say we always got along(I try to keep lying to a minimum), but we did get by. When he started me shooting handguns he put me through some of the same training he'd had, under the idea that "If you ever really need one, you'll need to know how to use it right". This included draw & fire work and fast reloading(at my best I could start walking, at the signal draw & fire six, reload from belt loops and fire six more in a little under 11 seconds). And to check homework and all the other stuff.

This is running on far too long, and I'm just reciting facts. Big one is he was always around, times good and bad. Taught me a lot by both words and example. He & Mom have been married for more than 50 years now, and they still set a good example.