Memories -- Thank you Dad!

Dad on hike to Twin Falls

          "Just pick the mold off, they're OK to eat." We're sitting in the old converted truck, converted from what kind of truck I don't remember, but now it is a flat bed dual wheeled fence truck. An International, maybe 1965 model, not important, a good heavy duty hard working truck! A steady rain is falling. Driving between jobs we stopped at the old McDaniel's Store, an one room store way pass it's prime, located on the Old White Horse Rd. north of Travelers Rest, SC. My Dad and I go inside to buy something to wash lunch down with, he sees a bag of those Sweet Sixteen Doughnuts and buys them for dessert. After we eat our sandwiches he opens the bag of doughnuts and offers me one, I take it out of the bag and see green spots scattered through out the white sugar coating. "They have mold on them!" You know his response as he bites into one and takes a swig of chocolate milk. I wonder if the milk is sour! Not knowing any better I pick the green spots off and help him finish eating all sixteen moldy doughnuts. These doughnuts were either special or the mold was hallucinogenic- he started singing, "Eating moldy doughnuts, sitting in the rain!" He sang that soul stirring line several times before settling against the window and dozing off. Caught me completely off guard, the only other song I remember hearing him sing with spontaneous gusto is "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" I laugh today remembering that early afternoon over thirty years ago.

          When chicks start roosting on the head board of  your bed it's time to put them in a chicken coop!         My mother, bless her heart! What was she thinking? I don't know, but with  her permission I built a big wooden box and put it in the middle of the bedroom I shared with my brother. Fifty chicks, one day old chicks, called that box home for about four weeks! Me being a member of the 4-H club had chosen chicken raising as my 4-H project. The 4-H leader had to come to the house and talk with a parent and make sure they were fine with the clubbers project and see that we could properly house the chickens. Two old barns sat on the property and he deemed them suitable for housing chickens. He wasn't thinking like a sixth grader! It was an exciting day when we got the call that the chicks had arrived and were ready to pick up. The Federal Courthouse was in downtown Greenville and the Clemson Extension Agents had an office on the lowest floor. I got to walk in the building all by myself and follow the sound of hundreds of peepers peeping as I made my way to receive my fifty fuzzy fellows, we were going to be bunk mates! The heat lamp was hung over the center of the brooding box, four feeders like spokes of a wheel radiated from the heat source, four one quart water jars spaced between each feeder, cardboard curved into each corner to make it as round as possible and one proud sixth grader as he lovingly placed the fifty fuzzy fellows in their new home!  Twenty-four seven light, remove dirty newspaper twice a day-more if needed-keep water clean and full, feed as needed, add lots of love. Chicks grow feathers, chicks with feathers- fly, chicks that fly- roost, chicks that roost-poop--- everywhere!!! Time for a massive change-the love is gone!     If I'm right we moved the chickens into the smaller shed, the weather was warm enough that they survived and became laying hens. It was sometime during the fall that my Dad came home with a big roll of single strand rubber coated wire. He sat in the dining room and taped two strands side by side to make a very long extension cord, in my young eyes it was an hundred feet to the chicken coop, he put a plug on both ends, one to plug into the back porch outlet and the other to plug a light into in the chicken coop. He hung it over a couple of tree branches and stapled it to the out side of the coop, worked great! At the time I thought he did it for me, but as I think back maybe it was for Ma! I raised chickens for two or three more years, but only once in my bedroom.

          River sand- a whole pickup truck load of it!           Jumping up and down on the round pointed shovel I could hardly make an impact on the hard South Carolina red dirt. All I wanted to do was plant a garden. Pretty sure I was thirteen at the time, the whole summer was ahead of me, and being thirteen; time really moved slow. Every day I worked at it until the small spot was turned over. Now I had a plot of ground with South Carolina red dirt turned upside down! Not a good place for a producing garden. He did it again, backed down to the turned over upside down and confused red dirt with a load of river sand. Said he'd been talking to some men who told him that river sand would break up the red dirt and help loosen the soil. I don't remember him unloading the truck,or scattering the sand over the garden spot,or turning it under, but I remember the load of sand!

          Traumatized!! Old men should wear more than just swim shorts!           The youngest son, he's about nine years later than the original seven children, I'm not saying that he was an accident or even that some of us think that he was spoiled, no I won't say that! He never wore hand me downs or had the soles of his shoes flap as he walked,[ duct tape can be a friend! ]  All I'm saying is that his family is nine or ten years younger than the rest of us, therefore their life experiences are years later then we older siblings. That makes us older, wiser, and much more mature. { Can't wait to hear the reaction from that statement!}  The youngest son and his wife took a twenty-five year anniversary trip and sent four of their children to stay with Grampa for a couple of days. Grampa, myself, four grand kids and another grand kid went to Lake Keowee for a paddle and picnic one afternoon. We paddled to a little island and set up residence so we could enjoy the day. Here's a beautiful sandy beach and a nice gradual slope into the lake so we go swimming. Grampa eases out of his pants and pulls his shirt off over his head, talk about chickens!! have you ever seen a old plucked rooster? wrinkled yellow skin and pin feathers sticking out all over!  Two nieces cover their eyes and scream, three nephews run into the woods and hide, I jump into the water, maybe I'll drown!  Yep! that's a memory.

          Number six child in a family of eight; two older sisters, two older brothers, another sister, myself, two younger brothers, we all have different memories. It being Father's Day I focused on memories of my Dad, I don't recall ever talking about of a couple of these they don't seem important, but they stand out in my mind. Ma passed away in November of 2005, always faithful to her husband, to her children and to her Savior. Last count my Dad has thirty -four grand kids, forty-five great grand kids, and two more on the way. One hundred and eighteen all told. All eight of us children are still married to our first and only husband or wife. Thank you Dad for the example set by you and Ma in your fifty-eight years of marriage. Married June 14. 1947. Your willingness to serve God has made a lasting impression on the lives of all your children and their children and their children! Thank you for being a sweet, kind, and gentle old man. May you live many more years beyond the eighty-six you have already lived!   Thank you. I love you.


          In the woods or on the water,

          Turtle