Dad was born in Perry Ok 9/1/30. His parents had a small farm with milk cows, chickens, and turkeys, which they lost in the dust bowl.
The Drs told them that Grandma was going to die if they did not get her out of Oklahoma and the dust bowl conditions. So Grandpa and Grandma loaded six kids into the model T, tied the family's mattresses to the top, and headed west. Dad was third of the six kids. He had two older sisters, two younger sisters and a younger brother.
The family ended up in Scotts Bluff Or in Harney County, just off the Nevada state line. They lived there for a few years. Dad was eight years old when his four year old brother threw a pitchfork off from the top of a haystack. The fork penetrated the knee cap and passed through the knee joint, which became infected. There were not much in the way of antibiotics in those days. Dad was layed up for most of a year before the infection cleared and he was allowed to use that leg again.
During Dad's early teen years, his parents bought 160 acres of sagebrush in a brand new irrigation project outside of Caldwell ID. It was very hilly and chopped into many small fields. But once they grubbed the sagebrush out, it could all be farmed
The knee remained rigid for the rest of Dad's life. By the time dependable knee replacements became available, that stiff knee was such a part of his identity that he refused to have surgery on it. Dad spent his young life self employed as farm labor, proving to the world and himself that he was a better man than any out there with two good legs.
When I was five years old, Dad started putting me on the tractor. Any tractor. He bucked bales locally for anyone with a field to stack. 5 cents a bale for strings, or 8 cents for wire tie. Usually the farm supplied the tractor and Dad had his own specially built two wheeled hay trailer built close to the ground so he did not have to lift the bales so high.
We would work from daylight until about 2:00 PM then go home for lunch and a rest. If the field was close enough to home we would go back out to the field for a few hours in the evening. I witnessed Dad lift 1000 bales from the ground to the trailer and then into the stack in a single day on more than one occasion. He did this with no elevator at the stack or on the wagon. Just me at five or six or seven years of age to drive the tractor through the field.
He bought a little twenty acre place and put a one room shanty on it in 1955. My sister and I were born in that shanty. The property never did have running water until I purchased it thirty years later. Water was transported in ten gallon milk cans to the home and heated on the stove for sponge baths.
In 1968 he purchased an additional 290 acres of ground, for $12,000. The property only had fifty acres of irrigable ground. The rest was cheat grass dry land which we grazed in the spring.
Over the next six years we built our Holstein herd to 100 head counting calves and replacement heifers. It was more than our property could support so we leased another 200 acres with irrigation for 80 acres. Mom, and my younger sister, younger brother, and I milked as many as 35 head each night and morning by hand. We got a vacuum pump and mechanical milkers in the summer of '74 when I was headed to College and my sister to boarding school for her last year of High School.
It was 500 acres of pheasant paradise. From start of season till the end every year my brother and I were out with our dogs and shotguns every day. Dad never hunted birds, but he reveled in the hunting my brother and I did.
Dad was a big game hunter. Everyone in the community knew how poor our family was. And the community was amazed when Dad came home in the early 60s with a new Remington 760 in 30-06 and a Bushnell 3-9x40 Scopecheif. That is still a fine optical instrument which I have mounted on a rifle and am proud to carry.
Dad went hunting, back in the '60s with five loaded mags in his various pockets, and often two more boxes of ammo in his saddle bags. I have seen him come home forty rounds shy of when he left that morning. But there would be several dead deer and perhaps a couple elk up on the mountain waiting for tags and transport.
The only thing that counted was keeping the freezer filled. Besides, it was not really poaching, he thought, as long as it all had someone's tag when it came home. And nothing ever went to waste. I remember getting many a phone call at home. "We had a flat, we need a spare tire." Or two spare tires. Mom would jump in the car and head to the hills with her tags.
The toughest thing Dad ever dealt with was the loss of my younger brother in 1980. Brother was just 20 years old. He fell asleep at the wheel and wrapped his 71 Torino around a telephone pole.
That was the beginning of the end for Dad and Mom's marriage. They got more and more distant over the next four years and were divorced shortly after my first child was born in 1983.
The divorce meant the farm had to be sold and proceeds divided. Dad and Mom each had $12,000 after all the bills were paid. Dad bought his one and only new car in his life. A 1984 Toyota Celica, because by then I had owned two Celicas and a new Toyota pickup.
Dad kept one acre of ground and the old shack from the 60s. He still had no running water and refused to let me pipe water into the house. Instead we put a frost free hydrant near his door and he had an outhouse fifty yards away below the garden. I bought the remaining portion of his original 20 acres and raised my kids beside him.
About 1995 he met my stepmom. A wonderful kind lady who adopted my kids as her own grand kids. She would slave all day in the garden and then they would usually go home to her place. My son spent days and days out in that garden with his Grandpa hoeing and hilling the sweet corn crop. Dad and Step Mom usually had all of my kids out to some pond or fishing hole somewhere when ever it was warm enough to do so.
With Dad's crippled leg and the loss of the farm he had no means of support. He went on SSI and has lived on about $300/mo since 1985, and saved considerable amounts from that.
But that leg finally got the best of him and shortly before his 82'nd birthday he started falling down in Step Mom's house and it took paramedics each time to pick him up and get him back on the couch. On 7/2/12 we moved him into a nursing home. He has not been able to stand for nearly five years. He has been wheel chair and bed bound.
Wed Jan 8 he became unconscious. Diagnosis: low blood pressure which induced kidney failure compounded by tracheal bronchial malaise (collapse) We removed life support Sat Jan 11. He never again became conscious.
His tough old body finally gave up the fight this morning. Heartbeat and respiration ceased about 9:30 AM this morning.
Dad is gone, to be no more, forever.
So sorry for your loss. Prayers for you and your family.
Sorry for your loss, I sure do miss my Dad and Mom both.
My condolences, may his memory be a blessing to you.
A fitting tribute from a good man's son--may your dad rest in peace
Sorry to hear about your families loss. Sounds like your dad was the salt of the earth. Prayers sent.
Idaho, that's a fine eulogy.
Sorry for your loss.
He was a tough man till the end.......RIP, Sir.
Great eulogy. Sorry that you lost your father.
Words fail me at times, may God Bless all.
Sorry for you loss!
Sounds like he was a fine man. His generation was twice as tough as we are.
Sorry for your loss, my dad past just before Christmas. It was (still is) tough
You have my most sincere condolences. Sounds like your dad was one helluva tough ole bird. May he live on a long time in the memories of you and your kids.
A wonderful tribute to your Dad. My condolences to you and your family.
Cherish the memories with your dad.
So sorry for your loss. He taught you to be a man. Endured pain and setback. Was a credit to himself and the name his father gave him. It is now incumbent on you, to pass that heritage on. May your Father rest in peace.
So sorry for your loss. This is a loss that will forever leave a void in your life. Thank You for honoring your father with the story of his life! Our Thoughts and Prayers for you and your family. memtb
I always remind us "younger" folk who have recently lost a parent how blessed we were to have them as part of our lives and to have the good memories. Sounds like your dad was a typical real Oklahoma born and bred man and an example for you to live up to.
Sorry for your loss. A tough man living through tough times. Thanks for telling his story.
Great eulogy. Sorry that you lost your father.
This.
Also, a very nicely written tribute to your Dad.
A life most wonderfully encapsulated.
Sincerest condolences to you and your family.
I’m sorry to hear of the loss of this fine man. Prayers for you and your family, from us in N.C.
Honor your mother and your father...you did just that. Prayers.
Great tribute. Condolences.
Your Father sounds like a hell of a man. Prayers from Colorado for you and your family.
Sorry for your loss. Great tribute to your dad.
I spent most of my life in that area.... brings back so many memories.
Wow, Thanks to all of you.
Damned allergies now.
Sorry to hear this.
Fathers like them or not most just tried to the best they knew how with what they had.
Mine did.
Thoughts and Prayers are with you.
I’m very sorry for your loss!
My condolences to you and your family. May your father RIP.
Dad was born in Perry Ok 9/1/30. His parents had a small farm with milk cows, chickens, and turkeys, which they lost in the dust bowl.
The Drs told them that Grandma was going to die if they did not get her out of Oklahoma and the dust bowl conditions. So Grandpa and Grandma loaded six kids into the model T, tied the family's mattresses to the top, and headed west. Dad was third of the six kids. He had two older sisters, two younger sisters and a younger brother.
The family ended up in Scotts Bluff Or in Harney County, just off the Nevada state line. They lived there for a few years. Dad was eight years old when his four year old brother threw a pitchfork off from the top of a haystack. The fork penetrated the knee cap and passed through the knee joint, which became infected. There were not much in the way of antibiotics in those days. Dad was layed up for most of a year before the infection cleared and he was allowed to use that leg again.
During Dad's early teen years, his parents bought 160 acres of sagebrush in a brand new irrigation project outside of Caldwell ID. It was very hilly and chopped into many small fields. But once they grubbed the sagebrush out, it could all be farmed
The knee remained rigid for the rest of Dad's life. By the time dependable knee replacements became available, that stiff knee was such a part of his identity that he refused to have surgery on it. Dad spent his young life self employed as farm labor, proving to the world and himself that he was a better man than any out there with two good legs.
When I was five years old, Dad started putting me on the tractor. Any tractor. He bucked bales locally for anyone with a field to stack. 5 cents a bale for strings, or 8 cents for wire tie. Usually the farm supplied the tractor and Dad had his own specially built two wheeled hay trailer built close to the ground so he did not have to lift the bales so high.
We would work from daylight until about 2:00 PM then go home for lunch and a rest. If the field was close enough to home we would go back out to the field for a few hours in the evening. I witnessed Dad lift 1000 bales from the ground to the trailer and then into the stack in a single day on more than one occasion. He did this with no elevator at the stack or on the wagon. Just me at five or six or seven years of age to drive the tractor through the field.
He bought a little twenty acre place and put a one room shanty on it in 1955. My sister and I were born in that shanty. The property never did have running water until I purchased it thirty years later. Water was transported in ten gallon milk cans to the home and heated on the stove for sponge baths.
In 1968 he purchased an additional 290 acres of ground, for $12,000. The property only had fifty acres of irrigable ground. The rest was cheat grass dry land which we grazed in the spring.
Over the next six years we built our Holstein herd to 100 head counting calves and replacement heifers. It was more than our property could support so we leased another 200 acres with irrigation for 80 acres. Mom, and my younger sister, younger brother, and I milked as many as 35 head each night and morning by hand. We got a vacuum pump and mechanical milkers in the summer of '74 when I was headed to College and my sister to boarding school for her last year of High School.
It was 500 acres of pheasant paradise. From start of season till the end every year my brother and I were out with our dogs and shotguns every day. Dad never hunted birds, but he reveled in the hunting my brother and I did.
Dad was a big game hunter. Everyone in the community knew how poor our family was. And the community was amazed when Dad came home in the early 60s with a new Remington 760 in 30-06 and a Bushnell 3-9x40 Scopecheif. That is still a fine optical instrument which I have mounted on a rifle and am proud to carry.
Dad went hunting, back in the '60s with five loaded mags in his various pockets, and often two more boxes of ammo in his saddle bags. I have seen him come home forty rounds shy of when he left that morning. But there would be several dead deer and perhaps a couple elk up on the mountain waiting for tags and transport.
The only thing that counted was keeping the freezer filled. Besides, it was not really poaching, he thought, as long as it all had someone's tag when it came home. And nothing ever went to waste. I remember getting many a phone call at home. "We had a flat, we need a spare tire." Or two spare tires. Mom would jump in the car and head to the hills with her tags.
The toughest thing Dad ever dealt with was the loss of my younger brother in 1980. Brother was just 20 years old. He fell asleep at the wheel and wrapped his 71 Torino around a telephone pole.
That was the beginning of the end for Dad and Mom's marriage. They got more and more distant over the next four years and were divorced shortly after my first child was born in 1983.
The divorce meant the farm had to be sold and proceeds divided. Dad and Mom each had $12,000 after all the bills were paid. Dad bought his one and only new car in his life. A 1984 Toyota Celica, because by then I had owned two Celicas and a new Toyota pickup.
Dad kept one acre of ground and the old shack from the 60s. He still had no running water and refused to let me pipe water into the house. Instead we put a frost free hydrant near his door and he had an outhouse fifty yards away below the garden. I bought the remaining portion of his original 20 acres and raised my kids beside him.
About 1995 he met my stepmom. A wonderful kind lady who adopted my kids as her own grand kids. She would slave all day in the garden and then they would usually go home to her place. My son spent days and days out in that garden with his Grandpa hoeing and hilling the sweet corn crop. Dad and Step Mom usually had all of my kids out to some pond or fishing hole somewhere when ever it was warm enough to do so.
With Dad's crippled leg and the loss of the farm he had no means of support. He went on SSI and has lived on about $300/mo since 1985, and saved considerable amounts from that.
But that leg finally got the best of him and shortly before his 82'nd birthday he started falling down in Step Mom's house and it took paramedics each time to pick him up and get him back on the couch. On 7/2/12 we moved him into a nursing home. He has not been able to stand for nearly five years. He has been wheel chair and bed bound.
Wed Jan 8 he became unconscious. Diagnosis: low blood pressure which induced kidney failure compounded by tracheal bronchial malaise (collapse) We removed life support Sat Jan 11. He never again became conscious.
His tough old body finally gave up the fight this morning. Heartbeat and respiration ceased about 9:30 AM this morning.
Dad is gone, to be no more, forever.
This reminds me of my father and mother who started off living in a one room trapper shack with a dirt floor. Dad would sleep with a 22 revolver loaded with birdshot to kill the mice that scurried around at night. Bag limits were for people who didn't have to wonder where the next meal would come from. They passed away 6 years ago six months apart. Wish I could put together a tribute half as good as this for my parents. A few more pages about your Dads life and you would have a book or screen play I would love to see. So sorry for your loss
Sorry to hear this.
Fathers like them or not most just tried to the best they knew how with what they had.
Mine did.
Yep, ....
You were truly blessed to have had this man as your father. What a MAN!
May the memories of your life with him continue to bless you in the coming days.
You will see him again.
May he rest in peace without pain now and forever.
May your sorrows be tempered knowing he is at peace and out of pain.
And may God bless you and your family n this time of sorrow.
Very cool tribute.
You were closer to your Dad than many.
And he was closer to you than a lot.
Condolences to all, and R.I.P. Sir.
Godspeed, sorry for your loss
Idaho Shooter:
That was a grand tribute sir, well done.
My thoughts and prayers are with the friends and family left behind.
Dwayne
Idaho Shooter, I don’t have the words!
Sorry to hear this news. Your dad sounds like a fine man. Prayers on the way.
Our parents, our grandparents, our friends. When it comes down to it, they are worth more than all else combined. Sorry for your loss but thankful to read of a good life, well lived. I would have liked to have met your dad. These were the people who built the country. Largely unseen and under-appreciated, they were the heart of the nation. GD
My prayers are with you and your family
A wonderful tribute written by a loving, respectful son. A man really can’t ask for more than that at his passing.
Prayers for you and your family.
Very sorry for your loss.
Sorry for your loss. Sounds like he lived a full life and was a hardworking man. They made them tougher back then. R.I.P
Sorry to hear this.. You have my sympathy!!!
YOU HAVE MY CONDOLENCES and nice to read the family history too. god bless,Pete53
Sorry for your loss, what an example you had for a father. My dad is a year older, with terminal cancer. But you'd never know it by the way he acts.
Damn, these old guys were tough. We sure have it good now.
Best thing I've read here today. Thanks for sharing part of your life with us, from the sounds of it a very large and important part of yours and your family's lives.
May you and your family rest in the peace of knowing he did well.
Geno
Lots of friends or family have commented to me about how hard I had to work growing up, sometimes not in the most complimentary of ways.
I remember back in the Spring of 1983 just before my one and only and I were married. I told one such, "That is what made me the man I am today. If it formed me to be the man this woman will love, I would not change a thing."
Thanks again to all for the kind words and well wishes. We do appreciate it all.
Finally the allergies are subsiding. There were many touching words here tonight.
It's a heckuva thing to lose a father who was a good man.
Very sorry for your loss.
Your words warm the heart and speak volumes about you and your father. I rather imagine he is smiling now.
Sorry for your loss. Cherish the memories.
Gawtdamn! What a write up!
Thanks very much for sharing that with us. Seriously.
Sorry he is gone.
A smilining read of of a tough, good man. RIP
Osky
Sir, from your story, your father was quite a man. I am sorry for your loss.
Sorry about your dad.
Time will help.
That was worth reading. Sorry for your loss
Sincere condolences to you and your family.
I am afraid my father will be following yours, very soon - would be 92 if he makes it 'til March 12 - don't think he will.
Prayers sent for y'all.
I have a.cousin that is trying to research our family history. You have 1 up on us. You have lived it. The greatest thing my sons and grandsons could say about me when I die, you have said about your father. May he rest in peace. May your memories stay with you
God speed to your father.
May your family have peace!
Wow! What a man.
I’m sorry for your loss but it sounds like you had a good life with your dad and I’m sure that your children will cherish the time spent with such a tough and determined man.
My condolences to you and your family.
Thoughts and prayers from Iowa. Keep the memories alive.
My sincere condolences. Very well written.
Dad was born in Perry Ok 9/1/30. His parents had a small farm with milk cows, chickens, and turkeys, which they lost in the dust bowl.
The Drs told them that Grandma was going to die if they did not get her out of Oklahoma and the dust bowl conditions. So Grandpa and Grandma loaded six kids into the model T, tied the family's mattresses to the top, and headed west. Dad was third of the six kids. He had two older sisters, two younger sisters and a younger brother.
The family ended up in Scotts Bluff Or in Harney County, just off the Nevada state line. They lived there for a few years. Dad was eight years old when his four year old brother threw a pitchfork off from the top of a haystack. The fork penetrated the knee cap and passed through the knee joint, which became infected. There were not much in the way of antibiotics in those days. Dad was layed up for most of a year before the infection cleared and he was allowed to use that leg again.
During Dad's early teen years, his parents bought 160 acres of sagebrush in a brand new irrigation project outside of Caldwell ID. It was very hilly and chopped into many small fields. But once they grubbed the sagebrush out, it could all be farmed
The knee remained rigid for the rest of Dad's life. By the time dependable knee replacements became available, that stiff knee was such a part of his identity that he refused to have surgery on it. Dad spent his young life self employed as farm labor, proving to the world and himself that he was a better man than any out there with two good legs.
When I was five years old, Dad started putting me on the tractor. Any tractor. He bucked bales locally for anyone with a field to stack. 5 cents a bale for strings, or 8 cents for wire tie. Usually the farm supplied the tractor and Dad had his own specially built two wheeled hay trailer built close to the ground so he did not have to lift the bales so high.
We would work from daylight until about 2:00 PM then go home for lunch and a rest. If the field was close enough to home we would go back out to the field for a few hours in the evening. I witnessed Dad lift 1000 bales from the ground to the trailer and then into the stack in a single day on more than one occasion. He did this with no elevator at the stack or on the wagon. Just me at five or six or seven years of age to drive the tractor through the field.
He bought a little twenty acre place and put a one room shanty on it in 1955. My sister and I were born in that shanty. The property never did have running water until I purchased it thirty years later. Water was transported in ten gallon milk cans to the home and heated on the stove for sponge baths.
In 1968 he purchased an additional 290 acres of ground, for $12,000. The property only had fifty acres of irrigable ground. The rest was cheat grass dry land which we grazed in the spring.
Over the next six years we built our Holstein herd to 100 head counting calves and replacement heifers. It was more than our property could support so we leased another 200 acres with irrigation for 80 acres. Mom, and my younger sister, younger brother, and I milked as many as 35 head each night and morning by hand. We got a vacuum pump and mechanical milkers in the summer of '74 when I was headed to College and my sister to boarding school for her last year of High School.
It was 500 acres of pheasant paradise. From start of season till the end every year my brother and I were out with our dogs and shotguns every day. Dad never hunted birds, but he reveled in the hunting my brother and I did.
Dad was a big game hunter. Everyone in the community knew how poor our family was. And the community was amazed when Dad came home in the early 60s with a new Remington 760 in 30-06 and a Bushnell 3-9x40 Scopecheif. That is still a fine optical instrument which I have mounted on a rifle and am proud to carry.
Dad went hunting, back in the '60s with five loaded mags in his various pockets, and often two more boxes of ammo in his saddle bags. I have seen him come home forty rounds shy of when he left that morning. But there would be several dead deer and perhaps a couple elk up on the mountain waiting for tags and transport.
The only thing that counted was keeping the freezer filled. Besides, it was not really poaching, he thought, as long as it all had someone's tag when it came home. And nothing ever went to waste. I remember getting many a phone call at home. "We had a flat, we need a spare tire." Or two spare tires. Mom would jump in the car and head to the hills with her tags.
The toughest thing Dad ever dealt with was the loss of my younger brother in 1980. Brother was just 20 years old. He fell asleep at the wheel and wrapped his 71 Torino around a telephone pole.
That was the beginning of the end for Dad and Mom's marriage. They got more and more distant over the next four years and were divorced shortly after my first child was born in 1983.
The divorce meant the farm had to be sold and proceeds divided. Dad and Mom each had $12,000 after all the bills were paid. Dad bought his one and only new car in his life. A 1984 Toyota Celica, because by then I had owned two Celicas and a new Toyota pickup.
Dad kept one acre of ground and the old shack from the 60s. He still had no running water and refused to let me pipe water into the house. Instead we put a frost free hydrant near his door and he had an outhouse fifty yards away below the garden. I bought the remaining portion of his original 20 acres and raised my kids beside him.
About 1995 he met my stepmom. A wonderful kind lady who adopted my kids as her own grand kids. She would slave all day in the garden and then they would usually go home to her place. My son spent days and days out in that garden with his Grandpa hoeing and hilling the sweet corn crop. Dad and Step Mom usually had all of my kids out to some pond or fishing hole somewhere when ever it was warm enough to do so.
With Dad's crippled leg and the loss of the farm he had no means of support. He went on SSI and has lived on about $300/mo since 1985, and saved considerable amounts from that.
But that leg finally got the best of him and shortly before his 82'nd birthday he started falling down in Step Mom's house and it took paramedics each time to pick him up and get him back on the couch. On 7/2/12 we moved him into a nursing home. He has not been able to stand for nearly five years. He has been wheel chair and bed bound.
Wed Jan 8 he became unconscious. Diagnosis: low blood pressure which induced kidney failure compounded by tracheal bronchial malaise (collapse) We removed life support Sat Jan 11. He never again became conscious.
His tough old body finally gave up the fight this morning. Heartbeat and respiration ceased about 9:30 AM this morning.
Dad is gone, to be no more, forever.
so sorry, this brought tears to my eyes. my dad is 80 and lives with me, first thing i do every morning is check to see if he's up.
So sorry man. He lived a long life and compared to some an
exceptionally long life.
Excellent bio, reminds me of some of my family.
Condolences.
Sincere condolences...
May God give you peace...
Your DAD sounds like a heck of a good man, sorry for your loss.
Once again, Thanks for the kind words and good wishes.
The alarm will go off in eight hours for work tomorrow. I gotta hit the sack.
Then interment Thursday.
Thanks again for the sharing.
Sorry for you loss. Prayers for you and your family.
My condolences to you and your family, I'll say a little prayer for you tonight.
I’m very sorry for your loss. I hope time softens the pain but strengthens your favorite memories.
Sorry for you and your families loss. He obviously was a good one.
A real man, gone to his glory.
Sorry to hear this, but he sounds like a great man.
He will be in your hearts forever.
Brother, my condolences. I feel your pain, my dad was admitted into hospice today. He doesn’t have long.
P
Condolences.. He lived one hell of a life, you wrote one hell of eulogy for your pops..
They sure don't make many men like that anymore. He embodied the attitude of " Don't give up; don't back down; and never give an inch".
That was a terrific eulogy.
One of the most moving and inspiring posts ever written on these boards.
Idaho Shooter,
Condolences on the loss of your father. Sounds like it was a blessing, too. It is tough having to watch a loved one suffer, especially a best friend like your father.
I lost my mother to cancer almost 13 years ago at 69, way before her time. I still think of her daily. My father is starting to fail now with overall fragility and neuropathy. He is still fairly sharp mentally but hates being housebound. It's getting harder for him to find things worth living for which is painful to watch. I suspect he holds on mostly for his kids and grandkids. I dread the thought of not having him around in my life.
Life marches on. Be thankful for the good memories and the fine example of a tough life well lived from what you have described.
Plain to see your Dad's legacy lives on in you and yours.
Wonderful Homage you paid.
Rejoice and live in the good memories.
Sorry for your loss, but you were blessed by having one to be so respected.
Condolences on the loss of your dad...
and thanks for sharing the excellent eulogy you posted about his life..
a loss of a man like him, is a loss to the nation... because they sure don't make them like that anymore...
May he be with the Lord and those love ones that passed before he did...
may the Good Lord, bless and be with your family at this difficult time...
Sorry for your loss. RIP Dad.
Bummer.
Sorry for your loss. I lost mine a while back. It's a hole in your life that never quite heals.
Prayers lifted for the family...
Sorry for your loss....Great Memorial of a life well lived!
Prayers lifted for your father and your children's grandfather. He sounds like a hell of a Man.
BP...
A tremendous man begat another. I am sorry for your loss but may he rest in peace and get his truly earned reward.
That was a very nice story, thanks for sharing it. Sorry for your loss.
Sorry for your loss!
He sounds like a great guy
Sorry for your loss, praying for you and your family.
Sure hate to hear this!
Well written, sorry for your loss.
Morning, my greatest condolences. We never really know how much we miss them till their gone. Bill out. 🐾👣🇨🇦
Sorry for your Loss! Nice write up on your Dad he would be Proud!
You are a fortunate man to have had so many years with your father. Godspeed
Condolences. You had a fine Father. Prayers for all
Sorry for your loss. Your Dad sounds like quite a man. I appreciate you sharing his life story with us.
A very nice post... Losing a parent is never easy.. I'm sorry for your loss sir....
Thanks for the write-up, and reminder, of the kind of people that make this the best place on earth.
RIP
Sorry for your loss brother. Thank you for sharing his story.
The pain of loss will lessen over time, but the legacy he has left certainly will not. My condolences.
It says in the Bible that “An honest father is a wonderful heritage”. I think the translation “honest” falls short, maybe there isn’t a big enough word in any language.
You have been blessed.
And I don’t believe your father is gone from you forever.
God keep you this time of sorrow.
So sorry to hear of your loss........
take care & keep your chin up !
You forgot one of his greatest accomplishments, he raised a good, loving son. Prayers to you and your Dad, you were blessed for many years for having such a fine man for a Father, that you appreciate.
God Bless y'all, Rustzipper.
I am sorry for your loss. Thanks for sharing your tribute.
Grate tribute.
Sorry for your loss.
dave
Brother, my condolences. I feel your pain, my dad was admitted into hospice today. He doesn’t have long.
P
Pharm, sorry for your Dad's situation too. Prayers for the best.
Guys, I lost my Dad in 98 when he was 72 yo from a brain tumor.
BTDT, I do understand.
That was a different breed of folks who came out of that era. Better folks for the most part I think.
Your dad was 2 years older than mine, the cancer finally took him 2 years ago on Valentine's Day.
Sorry for your loss, outstanding tribute.
Sorry for your loss IS, & may your dad RIP.
Wonderful write up about your father! Very sorry for your loss.