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Memories from a daughter

November 11, 2015

Dad was not a perfect man but I was honored to have him as my dad. He was my hero! He never stopped trying and he showed me by example that I could continue to give more, love more, and serve more.

Dad was drafted into the Army as soon as he graduated from high school.  Because he felt responsible to provide support for his parents at home, Dad organized regular, albeit secret, “craps” tournaments for the troops. Participants paid a small entrance fee and a small percentage of their winnings to the organizer (Dad) while enjoying a lively evening    Dad was then able to regularly send checks home to the little farm in Pearl, Il. 

While stationed in Korea, Dad spent his limited free-time up in the hills hunting deer. Dad would bring his kill and discretely drop it on the doorstep of families that he had observed were in desperate need of food. He also provided food, shelter and clothing to a young boy that hid in the shadows outside of the army barracks.

I had a lot of breathing difficulties as a child. I can still picture waking up many nights seeing Dad sleeping at the bottom of my bed, guarding me through the night. That was Dad—always there to provide and care for his family.

Dad had ways of making each of us feel special. We both had a sweet tooth, but Mom didn’t like us to eat candy. So from the time I was old enough to keep a secret, Dad would always invite me to go to the gas station with him. Once there we would get gas for the car or lawn mower AND a couple candy bars which were immediately consumed. After paper wrapper evidence was meticulously placed in the station garbage can and a quick breath check passed with flying colors we returned home. Mom never knew of our “40 year secret” until a few days before her death when she heard Dad and I talking and laughing about it. She said “I wondered why you two were always so anxious to go to the gas station.” We delighted in our revelation, and I think Mom did too.

I will always love you Dad.  Thank you for being my Dad.

Anita

 

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