I grew up on a small farm located a ways off a dead end public road. Whenever the rare car would drive by my father would wave. At a young age I asked why he waved when it was hard to see the car. “I don’t want to look stuck up,” he replied. “After all what did it cost me?”

Many years later his career landed him in the huge USDA building in Washington, DC. He was one of the big wigs in the agency. When I would visit and we would walk the hallways he always said “Hello” to everyone we passed. He never felt himself above anyone.

From these lessons I always say “Hello.” It is important to let folks know they are part of our communities. “Hello” tells folks I recognize their importance. Just say Hello.

The Good Old Days are a function of poor memory. Today is always better than yesterday. These were my Dad’s lessons.

Dad was born in 1918. He has witnessed a lot of change and progress. When the concern about the environment emerged in the 60’s he expressed optimism about our future. It would take work but we can fix it. He pointed out that we had similar challenges in the past and we overcame them.

Our world was not simpler when he was growing up. They were different. It was a slower pace but more difficult.  His parents complained about how fast things were changing when he was young. He marveled at how quickly the world was moving as I grew up.

Society is not degrading. We are making positive changes. We have challenges and always will have challenges. He never imagined in his lifetime that we would have a black President and someone would walk on the moon. Families are stronger now. In his generation children were simply more working hands.

If we think things are bad now we need to reach beyond our current generation for a better perspective. We become so focused on our current times we forget the lessons we can learn from past generations.

He loved the beauty of our current time. He taught me to appreciate what I have and to move forward into the bright future.

My Dad was so proud of the work he did. He loved science, research, and making organizations work well. As a result he made a difference.

His tenure was with the US Department of Agriculture. He worked in the Beltsville Research Station and in Washington, DC. He cared not for titles but for what he could accomplish on the job. He finished his career as an Acting Assistant Secretary of Agriculture. He retired on his own terms.

Dad was responsible for moving regulation of pesticides from the USDA to the EPA. He appeared briefly on CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite.

His name appeared in the Random House Dictionary for years as a contributor. I found it fun to go into a library and hunt his name.

I could find his name appearing in the Nixon White House tapes.

His proudest achievement was enabling the warning label on the side of cigarette packs. He joined the Downtown DC folks of the USDA just as the Surgeon General’s study on cancer from cigarettes was released. Never before had there been such a public release of information about the dangers of cigarettes. The USDA was on a committee studying this report and what to do with it. The group was recommending to place a Surgeon General’s warning on the packaging. One of Dad’s first assignments was this committee with their work in progress. He studied the report, returned to the committee, and voted in favor of the label.

Returning to his office the Secretary of Agriculture called for him. Apparently the USDA vote had been the one vote that blocked warning label. The Secretary explained there is a lot of tobacco being grown with strong political ties. Dad explained what he found in the research. “Couldn’t you just not vote?” the Secretary asked. So Dad changed his Yes to an abstention removing the bock and the label was approved.

For Dad it was never about the politics of doing what someone else said. It was never about the size of the office. It was never about the reserved parking place. It was about doing the right thing.

“Above all else don’t take yourself so God Damn seriously!” It was the caption of a picture of an old curmudgeon talking to a youngster. It stayed with Dad throughout his life after seeing it in college.

Dad was bald and it never bothered him. “If the barber is taking longer than 5 minutes I know he’s just fooling around up there.”

He was director of a program helping Spain with their agricultural practices. In his 50’s he started to learn Spanish. Sitting at the head table in Spain he practiced a sentence with a native sitting next to him. The man replied in broken English, “I no speak English.”

He loved clowns. After my mother died he became a clown. Legally blind he would put on his makeup. He entertained groups with his maze of jokes. His last visit with us was to entertain a support group at our hospital. Here’s my favorite joke.

A preacher in Stone Cliff gave one of his best sermons. “A B C D E F G, I J K L M N O P, Q R S T U V, W X Y and Z.” Trying to work up the congregation he started again with more energy. “A B C D E F G, I J K L M N O P, Q R S T U V, W X Y and Z.” As his flock became livelier he repeated himself. “A B C D E F G, I J K L M N O P, Q R S T U V, W X Y and Z.” With all the uproar a large bolder broke off Stone Cliff just above the Church. It rolled downhill, down the middle of the sanctuary and scared the H out of the preacher.

Dad insisted that a clown picture hang above his head until his last moments. I can tell you he never took himself seriously.

My parents celebrated over 50 years of marriage before my mother left us the same year as Princess Diana. Dad stayed by her side for her last 3 months without leaving the house. Later I asked him why. “It’s the reason we get married.”

I wondered after Mom who would be the significant woman in his life. Would he have a good female friend? Would he “date someone? Would he remarry? Odd questions to think about when you have seen your parents together for so long.

Dad was so dedicated to Mom. She had plenty of flaws. Flaws that created issues with us children that have taken years of introspection and therapy to handle. Dad saw her beauty through it all and helped her unleash her amazing artistic talents.

Dad did his best to keep the family together and his marriage. Today I understand both he and Mom were doing the best they knew how. It was Dad’s strength that kept everything from being ripped apart.

Dad never looked for anyone else. He never spoke of anyone but Mom. Her picture stayed beside his bed even in the years he was blind. “I can’t see the picture but I know she’s there.”