Morgan: Big Ups to you Pops!

One of my earliest memories is, I remember working with dad in the garage. I remember being his second set of hands, assisting him in whatever kind of odd job we happen to be performing that day, welding, plumbing,electrical work or carpentry. He taught me all the different names for each tool and what they did. "Go get me 5/8 wrench...no thats a 3/16" I remember hammering nails with dad and taking nails out to recycle the lumber...and the nails. He was always working...he had to support us. It must have been always on his mind. He would even work on the weekends. And I would travel with him for hours to help and mostly watch him work. I always brought a book and sometimes I would read to him while he worked.
In the spring he would till the earth as the rest of us followed and planted symmetrical lines of tomatoes, beans, corn and the list would get bigger every year. Sometimes we would go out to weed or pick overly ripen tomatoes in the failing light of the day...I guess we had been working and we had a little more to do.
I remember bringing my father his lunch. And he would sit down with us and eat heartily from a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken, steaming bowls of potato salad and polish it off with an cold RC cola. He wouldn't tarry long and was soon back to his work.
My father's main occupation was welding. He had always been a welder. His father was a welder. All of his brothers were welders. It was a tough bunch of denim wearing men. My grandfather had followed the construction of gas pipelines across America and Canada after the war. He traveled with his whole family, wife and five kids in a motorhome...following the construction. They eventually ended up in Illinois and thats were Grandpa bought the 15 acres which would be known as "The Farm"
For a little boy the Farm was a magical kingdom of exploration, work, playing and work. My siblings and I would traipse through the cow pastures following the well worn cow paths. Down past the many gardens, past the old junkyard of abandoned trucks and cars to the river.
Dad didn't like us to go down there without an adult. We would have to go down there to turn the irrigation pump off at night.
Dad was always working on cars or trucks. trying to extend their life. We would scour junkyards looking or usable transmissions, axles or engines. When we had enough scrap metal we would load the truck up and take it to the scrap yard where they would weigh the truck and pay us for it. There was Pigs and chickens to be butchered. One time we butchered a goat...but I don't think Dad like that to much.
People respected him for his talents and knowledge. People from church were always asking him to do jobs, plumbing, electrical, carpentry. I don't know if he ever made money out of those deals or not. The local farmers respected him for his welding talents, for they were always damaging their huge 10 wheeled tractors. Dad would fix them.
We cut many trees down in those days as we heated our house with wood to save money. Dad always handled the chainsaw notching the tree just right. attaching the cable if he want to encourage the tree to fall a certain way. After the exciting fall of the tree it was more work. He would cut the tree up in manageable chunks and we would heave them into the back of the pickup truck until it springs could handle no more. We usually had to make a few trips to get all the wood home.
But for all his toughness and hard work ethic he always had time for us kids, a hug, a joke, a word of encouragement. And while some people would say he worked to much. I counter by saying he did what he had to, for his family. He did it because he loved us. Happy Father's day Dad.