In Memory

Today would have been my father's 88th Birthday. Tomorrow is the 10th aniversary of his death.

Dad was a child of the depression, born in rural Alabama, a farmer at heart. He joined the Army during World War II and was a supply sergeant for an anti-aircraft battalion in the Pacific Theater. His unit island hopped from Australia to the Philippines. Dad brought home a piece of shrapnel and a Purple Heart when he came home from the Army.

Dad met, fell in love and married my mom shortly after returning from the war. He returned to a civilian job as a clerk at the at Brookley Field Air Force Base. They settled down and tried to start a family but it was twelve years before I was born. Dad worked at Brookley until it was shut down in 1969, then he took early retirement and went to work as the chief clerk in the Baldwin County Tax Collectors office, where his best friend from high school and the army was Tax Collector. He worked in the collectors office until he retired.

He loved the land and tried his hand at raising chickens, cows, and for a short time pigs - before mom complained about the smell. He had two catfish ponds dug and stocked. He loved growing things. At different times he had scuppernongs, satsumas, pears and peaches. He planted a large vegetable garden every year until he got too old to deal with it. He set up a greenhouse and rooted azaleas and other shrubs and flowers and planted them indiscriminately around the place. He always hoped I would develop a love of the land and farming but I'm afraid I was a disapointment there, but I married someone who shared his love of plants and growing things - if not his interest in livestock.  He made sure my children were introduced to living things leading him to buy goats and chickens for them to watch and pet and leading him to take my son to see "Mr. Perry's Cows".

He was blessed with a great deal of creativity but cursed with an inadequate skill level to pull off his designs - leading to some truely unique - horible looking bird feeders made from scrapped microwaves and piles of assorted junk that he was sure he'd find a use for someday.

When he left us suddenly ten years ago he left us prepared. His father died in his early sixties and he always expected he would too. So for twenty years before his death he kept telling us where all the important papers were, he had his plot picked out, he had the casket and arrangements bought and paid for.

It was Labor Day weekend and we were out of town visiting my wife's Sister's family when we got the word.  We had celebrated his birthday before we left. We called him on the actual day to sing happy birthday and tell him we loved him. He died quietly and quickly while he was getting ready for church on Sunday morning. We were 10 hours away. The trip home was horrible. I hated that we were not there for mom during those hours but the folks in the community and from her church took care of her as we drove home and they supported and uplifted us as we mourned his loss and celebrated his life.

Dad and I had the usual father and son relationship. It had it's rocky moments over the years. We were from two very different generations and we didn't always see eye to eye. In the end we were at peace with each other. We loved and respected each other and he was proud of me and the family I was raising. He would be proud of my daughter's choice for a husband and be thrilled at great grandchild she's carrying. He would be very proud of my son, who shares his name and who is learning to build and repair airplanes on the grounds of the old Brookley Air Force base.