The Greatest Man I Have Ever Known

I still remember the assignments in grade school where we were instructed to write about the person who had had the biggest influence on our young lives. My first inclination was to write about my sports heroes from the world of professional sports. However, I really didn’t know them, and as time has elapsed, I have realized, that in most instances, their character has not stood the test of time. I always suspected that these assignments were a veiled attempt to get us to talk to our parents and learn about them; but most of us kids would have nothing to do with that and would either learn just enough about our heroes or make something up. Looking back, I can find only one man who has passed the test of time.

I am now 46 years old and have known the man I write about for all of those years. In this time he has certainly grown wiser, braver, more intelligent, and bigger than life itself. I can’t say that I know everything there is to know about him, but I have learned enough through the years to say that, without a doubt, he is the greatest man I have ever known.

I honestly do not know much about his younger years. He grew up on the family farm in West Virginia with his three brothers and sister. He was the oldest of the five children, and I am sure he had to bear all of the duties and responsibilities of being the big brother. The family worked this farm throughout the depression, and I am confident that this period in his life shaped his attitudes concerning financial dealings and hard work.

After graduating from high school, he joined the Army Air Corp. In 1941, he was stationed at a base in Kansas. On December 7, 1942, he had gone with a buddy to Texas for a weekend. That’s where they were when they heard that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor and that all enlisted men were to return to their bases. He spent most of World War II in the states learning to maintain B-29 bombers. Although I am still not quite sure what his function on the bomber was, I know that he held the rank of Technical Sergeant. The flight crew he was in was sent to Okinawa the day the Japanese surrendered, saving them from making any bombing runs. Even though he didn’t see any “active duty,” the more I have learned about this period in our country’s history, the more amazed I have become at the willingness of this man to make the ultimate sacrifice for his country.

He married a local West Virginia girl during the war, and they moved to Oklahoma after he was released from the Air Corp. The Corp had asked him to re-enlist, but he told them that he had promised his wife that he would be coming home and that’s the way it was going to be. They settled in Stillwater where he took a job at a gas station. They started a family, and he was able to get a better job working at the Post Office. The family grew to six kids (three girls and three boys), and he took a second job on the weekends working in the body shop of a local car dealership.

I remember him always taking great pride in the way he looked in his uniform. His trousers and shirts were always pressed, with his shoes and bill of his cap shined. He was a representative of the U.S. Government, and he was in no way going to be the one to demean it. That’s the way he went to work until he retired from the Post Office in 1976.

I can remember at his retirement party the people coming up and reminiscing about him carrying their mail. He always walked his route and knew all of the people by name. He would take time to say “Hi” to the kids playing out front and would check on the older folks to see if they were doing all right. He had no tolerance for dogs that were not penned up, especially if they were unfriendly and thought he was lunch; friendly dogs he might stop and pet. I never knew that he was known by any other name than his given name until that party; seems as though people on his route used to call him “Red”--must of had something to do with his red hair.

After retiring from the Post Office, he went to work full time at the body shop. He possessed the talent to take a wrecked car and with hammers, sanders, a little body filler, and paint make it look like it just rolled off the lot. I can remember him rebuilding the car he drove to work. He did most of the work in his garage, only taking it to the shop for the final paint job. I was so disappointed the day he sold that car that I cried.

The owner of the car dealership once referred to him as a “craftsman.” This is a fairly accurate description, but probably more accurate would be a “Jack of all trades.” There was never any project that was too big for him to tackle. From putting air conditioning in their house to fixing toys, there was nothing he couldn’t do. When the family outgrew their two-bedroom house, he added a two-story garage, converted the old garage into a bedroom for the two oldest daughters, and added a bathroom and utility room. That was their home until 1978.

He and his wife had been married 60 years when she passed away. From what I have related here, this may seem like an ordinary life to most. He never achieved great financial success, and he had to work hard for every penny he ever made. He never possessed any political clout, nor did he ever seek any. “So what,” you may ask, “makes this man so great?” Let me try to tell you.

Together he and his wife raised six kids to be productive members of society. None of those kids ever became involved in drugs or spent any time in jail. All of those children were taught to respect their elders and that to achieve something through hard work was nothing to be ashamed of. Although this family was never wealthy by worldly terms, they certainly never thought they were poor. The children were taught to be thankful for what they had and to always take care of the “needs” before worrying about the “wants.” Many fathers have either taught or strived to teach their children these same lessons, and, in the minds of most, this does not qualify as greatness. I’ll try and explain better.

What makes this man different is that he is my dad and, more importantly, he is where I got my vision of what my Heavenly Father is like. I know just like my Father above, my earthly dad has been disappointed in my actions, but he has never stopped loving me. I know at times I wandered from the path that my dad wished that I would take, but he waited patiently for me to find my way back. Oh sure, there were times when I was spanked or otherwise corrected, but it was done because he loved me too much to let me stray too far.

My dad taught me what it means to be a father and husband. I will probably never know the number of times he went without so that the family could have something it needed. He taught me that being a father and husband was sacrificing yourself to make the family whole and that family is everything.

The most important thing he taught me was to keep your faith and God first. I remember him studying his Bible every night. We were in church every Sunday, where he led the singing, taught Sunday School, and was a Deacon and Elder. Every other week my dad would sit at the kitchen table and make out the checks to support the church or various missionaries around the world. He always made sure to give the tithe or more. Not only did he support the missionaries financially but also, when they would stop in town for a conference, they would get one of our beds for a while. I am confident that when my dad gets to heaven, he will meet people from all over the world who are there because he cared enough to support all of those missionaries.

On April 17, 2005, my mom passed away. During her final days with us, my dad continued to teach me, not by his word, but by his actions. He taught me during those days about love--what it means to love another so deeply that, although in your heart you long to keep them with you, sometimes it is better to let them go.

On February 5, 2006, just ten months later, the ails of this world have taken their toll on his fragile body. Even as his body was beginning to fail him, he still taught me. This time he is taught me to suffer with dignity.

I know that when Daddy closed his eyes on this earth, he opened them in heaven, and there to greet him was Mom. Now the two of them, together for 60 years here, will spend eternity together.

This is the man that I have come to see as great. Granted, as I was growing up, that was not always my opinion. Now that I am married and have two boys of my own, I hope that I can be the father to them that he was and still is to me.

Thanks, Daddy, for showing me the way. I’ll see you in heaven.

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.
Proverbs 22:6