I Remember Daddy.......

Several weeks ago, my Friend, Ben, told me about something his daughter said many years ago.  She crawled up in his lap and said, "Daddy, I Love you"!

Understandably, I am sure that his heart just swelled because of the smile on his face as he told it.

She went on to say, "I love you because you take out the trash and kill all the roaches".

I thought that this was a touching story and it made me think that we don't really know what our children think, nor how what we do and say to them affects their thoughts; their lives.  I decided that during this year's bible school at church, I would ask several children about their fathers and see what kind of response I would get.  I ended up asking adults about their fathers instead.  I asked two questions:

                What is the most vivid memory of your dad, especially when you were small?

                What did you learn from your dad?

I got more answers than I expected and I will share at least some responses here over the next few days.  I will only use their initials, since I did not ask them about publishing their names.

One friend, SWM, said, "When I was a little girl, we didn't have a car.  My daddy was going to walk to the store, which seemed like it was two miles away, (it probably wasn't that far, but it really seemed like a long way to me).   I wanted to go too, so he let me walk with him.  Daddy was a fast walker and I couldn't keep up with him, so I grabbed his back pocket so that I could stay close to him.  I surely must have been thinking, 'daddy, don't walk so fast', but I knew that he was not going to leave me behind."

“My Daddy was a hard-working man.  He only had a 2nd grade education and could only write his name, but not very well.  He never had many earthly possessions, but he was always willing to share what he had, and was always willing to help someone.  He was one of the hardest working men I have ever known, but he didn't really need a lot of money to make him content.  He let my mother pick up his paycheck and would never even ask to see it.  He would let her pay the bills and use the money as she saw fit.  I never remember hearing my daddy ask for anything.”

 

SB said, “My Dad was my best friend.  I could talk with him anytime about anything and always felt much better, even though he might not always agree with me. He was a very humble man and very dedicated to the ministry.  He taught me the value of a Christian home and the importance of family time.  He loved God first and then his family.  I loved him very much.”

To be continued………….

The Duke and the Great Communicator

Ronald Reagan died 5 June 2004, ten years ago.  I wrote this the week that he died.  I thought the tenth anniversary of his death would be an appropriate time to post it here.  bd

When Ronald Reagan was elected President, Lewis Grizzard wrote, “If America was going to elect an actor as President, they should have done it before John Wayne died.”  

I certainly was not the only one that felt the same way at the time, especially among Georgians. I was not happy that some old actor, from California no less, had beat Jimmy Carter for President and had sent him packing back to Georgia.  Of course, I wasn't happy with how a lot of people treated President Carter.  The press, Washington, Californians made fun of my President.  Even Dan Rather who claims to be from Texas didn't act right by Jimmy Carter to me.

What I really didn't like about Reagan was the fact that he grew on you.  He could “aw shucks” with the best of them.  Many in the media did not like him and tried to make him look bad, but he was an actor.  He knew their game and played it better than they did.  When he didn't want to answer their questions, he could feign deafness and just walk on.  For heaven’s sake, he was 69 years old when he was elected.  He was born on my birthday in the year that my mother was born (Feb. 6, 1911.)  

Ever since Reagan died, the news channels have been running Reagan quotes.  He was one of America’s most quotable presidents.  Many things that he said have stuck with me.  The most memorable to me was when he said, in front of the Berlin wall in 1987, “Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!”

The most touching quote that I personally remember was after the Challenger disaster in 1986, “The crew of the space shuttle Challenger honored us by the manner in which they lived their lives. We will never forget them, nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared for their journey and waved good-bye and slipped the surly bonds of earth to touch the face of God.”

Looking back, he was a lot smarter that I, and many other people, thought he could possibly be.  He brought honor and a sense of strength and right that had been missing from the Presidency, some of which was lost during Vietnam and the rest during the Nixon administration.  The presidency got bigger during his watch and he filled the job in a manner that made it much harder for those that followed him.

He was the most optimistic President in my lifetime.  He looked for the good, even in America's enemies.  He insisted on America negotiating from a position of strength.  He understood and used humor to convey his message.  His experience in acting honed his skills in conveying a message.  His experience in broadcasting taught him to edit the message to its essence.  But I think the most important elements of Ronald Reagan were his faith in God; his love of Nancy; and his devotion to the success of the cause of freedom and the American way of life.  He governed from principle, not from what he thought would sell to the voters.  He did pick and choose his fights, but he never wavered from what he thought was right.  We all should learn from this.

He was even an optimist for this country when he told us ten years ago that he had Alzheimer’s disease.  He spoke of the future in positive terms.  There was no room for pity in his words.  Little did we know that he was leaving the world stage at that very moment.  Only this last week, we made that departure official.     

When Reagan left office, I said many times that history would be kinder to President Carter than most thought then and not as kind to Reagan as most thought then.  I was wrong about at least part of that.  I mean no disrespect to the memory of Mr. Grizzard, but the Duke couldn’t have possibly done any better than the Great Communicator, Ronald Wilson Reagan, whose grave marker reads:

“I know in my heart that man is good, that what is right will eventually triumph, and there is purpose and worth to each and every life.”

Memorial Day 2014

This is Memorial Day weekend.  Some people view Memorial Day as the official start of summer, but it is a lot more than that.  Sometime next Monday, the president or some dignitary standing in for him will lay a wreath at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier to honor the men and women of the military who have died for their country.  We will see pictures of the tombstones at Arlington and other national cemeteries.  Some of us will take time to reflect, but others will be out grilling or boating; just celebrating a three-day weekend. 

A fair amount has been written about the beginning of the tradition of placing flowers on the graves of soldiers.  Some say it was in Savannah or Columbus, GA. Some say it was in Mississippi, or Ohio, or somewhere else.  It does not really matter to me where it started, what we call it or even what day we observe it.  The fact that we take time to stop, reflect and honor those brave men and women who served this country is what really matters to me.

I visited Arlington as a member of a high school band.  I think that we were in Washington DC for a cherry blossom parade.  I do not remember anything about the parade.  What I do remember is seeing all those acres of graves at Arlington National Cemetery; rows and rows of white marble grave markers, each with a cross or star of David.

I also remember seeing the tomb of the Unknown Soldier.  I remember the precision of the Army guards of the 3rd Army Infantry Regiment as they silently follow their routine of guarding the tombs, just as they have done since 1937.   He marches down the mat behind the tomb 21 steps, turns east and pauses 21 seconds, turns north and pauses 21 seconds, and then marches 21 steps to the other end of the mat.  He does a similar set of maneuvers to get back to his starting point.   He does this continually until the next soldier relieves him. 

Each precise turn the guard makes is followed by a click of his heels.  I remember it being so quiet there, except for the click of the soldier’s heels; so solemn, so respectful, so American!

I went up to The Bleckley County courthouse and sat on the bench out front on Friday afternoon.   As I sat there, I thought of the Unknown Soldier’s grave.  Somehow, I am afraid that all of us think of Memorial Day as being for ever so many unknown soldiers.  I am so proud of the people that have decorated the grounds of the courthouse for the Memorial Day celebration in Cochran.  They have placed over 50 markers, each with the name of the fallen soldier and the war he fought.  Most of them were crosses.  One had the Star of David.

Each of those markers represents not just a nameless brave soldier, but someone's son, or brother, or father.  A few names are familiar.  There are just a couple that I knew personally, but I am sure that I know the families of many of them.  They are names that I might have known if their lives had not been cut short, but they gave themselves so the ones that they love could live free in the country that they held dear. 

I later found out that it is not the American Legion or the VFW that puts out the flags and the markers, but the people in the Bleckley county courthouse.  There is a nice black granite marker on the northwest quadrant of the courthouse grounds that has almost all of these names listed by which conflict that they died in.  Nevertheless, they went to the trouble to place the markers on the grass, each with a soldier's name and an American flag.  It is a special tribute to ensure that they are soldiers with names.

I have no idea if I will be at the courthouse on Monday morning when the special service is held to honor these, and others, that have died in service to their country.  Just in case I don't make it Monday, I went up there last night and called each one by name, thanked them, and said a pray of gratitude for their service and the sacrifice that they and their families made.  I also read the names of the almost 100 American soldiers that have died since Memorial Day of 2013. It is the least I can do.

(See http://projects.militarytimes.com/valor/)  

Simplicity!

We went to church today at Longstreet Methodist church.  It was homecoming.  It has really become an annual tradition for us. Sometimes we just go for lunch.  Sometimes, like today,  we get there in time for singing and the morning message.  To some, it may seem odd for us to go to homecoming at a church that we can't really call home.  Neither Deb nor I ever attended there regularly.  In fact, about the only time we have ever been there is for homecoming and other special occasions.  We go there because it is a place that is so special to many of our friends that mean a lot to us.  Friends that we truly love.

It is a 202 year old structure that has been added onto only once, as far as I can tell.  The two front doors are original to the structure.  They are kind of rough hewn.  The nails were probably handmade and the hinges certainly were.  It is a simple structure that was built back in the days when construction in the south, at least this part of the south, was really simple.  Life itself was simpler in those days too.

   

Danny Mathis was today's speaker.  It is not his "home" church either, but he spoke about how he spent a lot of time there as a young man in the seventies and how he got his bearings as a young Christian there.

Danny used this setting to talk about the simplicity of salvation. How easy it is to make our relationship with God overly complex. 

Of course, that is all true, but don't we sometimes,  (maybe most of the time,)  make our life, especially our relationships overly complex?  It is so easy to expect more of people that they can deliver.  It is also easy to put OUR expectations on other people; expectations that are our goals for them, and not theirs.  We do it to our friends.  We do it to our parents.  We do it to our children.  (Sometime we even do it to people beside us or in front of us in traffic.) We are responsible for our own disappointment in others because we EXPECT them to be what we want them to be, rather than what they are meant to be.

Danny talked about clutter.  I am sure he was mostly referring to clutter in our spiritual lives, but it could also apply to other clutter in our lives, our homes, our cars, and our minds.  I certainly am guilty of having so many thing on my mental list of "to dos" that I get so bogged down that I don't get any of it, or at least not much of it done.  He had a solution: simplify!  In fact he used the KISS phrase: "Keep it Simple Stupid."

I couldn't help but think about my dear bride, Deb.  Several years ago when she was thinking about retirement, she decided that she (we) had too much clutter in our lives.  She vowed to "Simplify" her, which really meant our, lives.  She has been on this quest for several years and even though I am a slow learner, I am beginning to get it.  (In some areas of my life, I am practically rehab slow...) 

In some areas of my life, I am so organized.  In other  (most) areas I am so cluttered and I really need to work on those areas.  I have a good friend who collects and saves.  He sometimes says that he is just a bag or two (of junk) short of being featured on "Hoarders."   He say things like, "...because one day I might really need those headlight rings for a 1964 Nash Rambler.  Who knows!"

I laugh when he says these things, but even though I may not collect car parts, there is so much clutter in my life.  I have books that I will never refer to or read again.  I have tools that I will probably never use.  I know that I have old salvage wood that will never find its way into a project.  But that is not all, I have attitudes that need to go.  I have expectations that I need to get rid of.  Fears? Prejudices?  Who know what else?

Lastly, I will mention one final point on simplicity.  Knowing that we were going to eat after Danny spoke and knowing that Danny was the guest speaker, some woman, (I didn't hear her name,) made Danny a German chocolate cake.  That is his favorite!  If you have slowed down enough to think about your friend's favorite cake and actually have the time to make it for him, you have pretty much mastered the simplicity sermon...

Hurry Up Springtime!

It has been an odd year for weather, so far; warming some days only to turn cold that night; cold for several days and again turning warmer.  Deborah said a few days ago, "I am tired of winter clothes and I am ready for spring."

Indeed!

We have had a changing of the guard at our bird feeders over the month of March.  Our adult orioles that have been with us since January have disappeared (although the juveniles are still here), and we have a fresh crop of brown-headed cowbirds and red-winged blackbirds.  

A couple of weeks ago we were riding somewhere and saw a whole grouping of white blossomed trees.  We knew that some of them were pear, of some variety but were unsure of the rest.  Dogwoods were not blooming yet, which led to the mystery. 

Last weekend they printed the Macon Telegraph on pink paper.  This bit of encouragement meant only one thing (in Middle Georgia): Cherry blossom time!  Nearby Macon has had an annual festival for over 40 years to celebrate the blooming of the more than 300,000 Yoshino cherry trees in the Macon-Bibb County area. 

We have an old blooming cherry tree in our backyard.  Although I am not sure if it is Yoshino or some relative, it certainly does not follow the official blooming period of the Cherry Blossom Festival in Macon.  It blooms on its own timetable.  Colonel Lucien Whipple planted it here more than 40 years ago.  Every year we wonder if its time has come to depart from the living, but it remains.

Every time the weather looks promising this spring, it seems to turn cold again.  This past weekend, especially Saturday was just gorgeous.  Then it was cooler Sunday and Monday.  Tuesday was rather nice and it was 28 degrees Wednesday morning.  My wife longs for different clothes to mark the beginning of spring and summer.  I do too, but even more, I’m ready for the end of cold feet and dry, itchy skin season.

To me there is something invigorating about the days getting longer.  I understand that the length of daylight is an ever-changing thing, but springtime is when it really hits me that the days are getting longer. 

I have lived my life within a ten-mile radius of Cochran, but I have visited northern cities.  Having spent time in the Chicago area, I wonder how people stand the short days of winter there.  With the sun not coming up until after 8 AM and setting somewhere around 4 PM, you only see sunshine during the weekends, and not a lot even then.  I am not prone to depression, but that would certainly wear on me.  At least I think that it would. 

I hope to have some lettuce and other edibles planted in the next few days.  Hopefully, the cold snap of below freezing Tuesday night is our last this season.  I am ready for some locally grown tomatoes, blueberries, strawberries and fresh okra that warmer days will bring.

Of course, I’ll probably have a different opinion in late August.

People are Funnier Than.........

Almost 30 years ago a coworker and friend I'll call Dwayne said, “people are funnier than anybody.”  My friend was right.

It has always amused me that people apparently think they are invisible when they get into their car.  Even when they are driving, women “adjust” and check out their makeup or their hair as if they can’t be seen.  Men clean their ears, primp, pick their teeth and even worse.  People reading a book, a map or a newspaper have passed me on the way to work. 

About ten years ago, the same woman passed me almost every morning as I drove to work.  Not that I mind being passed by a woman, but I was driving about 65 and she was applying eye makeup as she passed me, using the lighted mirror on the back of her sun visor.  Since it was before daybreak, I would watch as the glow of that lighted mirror would go over the distant hill in front of me each morning.

Men and women now use their commute time to talk on their cell phones.  Don’t get me wrong, I do it sometimes myself.  Other than the time you are dialing, I don’t think that the act of TALKING on a cell phone is any more dangerous than talking to someone in the car with you.  I have been surprised to see some pass me, holding their cell phone with one hand and gesturing with the other.  It made me wonder what kind of autopilot they had.

  

Cell phones certainly are a real asset for us to keep in touch with our family, loved ones as well as work.  It has finally moved from status symbol to a useful tool and finally just about a necessity.  However, I continue to be amazed by how some folks act as they use these things.  Some folks must believe that they become inaudible as soon as they hit the “send” button.  Either that or they completely lose their sense of where they are.  Once while traveling,  I overheard a woman talking on her cellphone, who was walking through the airport say, “Yes I’m here in Orlando and I just hate this airport.  It is the absolute worst!”  She was getting in line for ice cream on concourse B at the ATLANTA airport.

People that would look at you like you were CRAZY if you ask them their name think nothing of exposing their name, address, phone number, Social Security number, mothers maiden name and more while talking in public on their cell phone.  I have heard about hysterectomies, gall bladder surgeries and divorce, all in more detail than anyone would want to hear, while waiting for a table at Longhorn. 

When you travel, it seems as though it is even worse.  I have heard lawyers give advice, and threaten while in the privacy of the gate area with 200 other people waiting for a plane.  I have overheard enough business details in a series of cell calls that someone listening could have absolutely wrecked some pretty good deals.

I think that parking lots are probably the most unique place for people, though.  Like on the road, people must believe that they are invisible not only as they drive into the parking lot, but also must believe that they remain invisible for at least 10 feet as they leave their car.  Many people, particularly heavyset ones do an inordinate amount of adjusting and retrieving undergarments from areas of anatomy that I’d rather not discuss too much.  I can’t imagine that they would do that if they knew that we could actually see them. 

This 10-foot “invisibility buffer” obviously is only effective when you are leaving your car.  I say this because these same people bounce up like a Superball if they slip and fall when they are returning to their car.  They may break their hip or leg, but they jump up and look around to see if anyone actually SAW them fall.  If you ask them if they are OK, they will invariably say, “Sure, I’m fine.”  They’ll say this even if they have bones protruding and are bleeding profusely.  

Yes Dwayne, you were right 30 years ago and you are right now, people are just funnier than anybody.   

Father's Day! Call or Write.....

The basics of this post was written for Father's Day in 2005.  I have brought it up to date, but the core of my feelings from then hasn't really changed.

Not long ago someone asked me what I was going to say about Father’s Day.  Although they could remember several things I had written about Mother’s Day, they said that they couldn’t remember me ever writing about Father’s Day.  I don’t think I ever have. 

Since my dad died when I was just over two, Father’s Day was not a big deal at the Davis house as I was growing up.  It just wasn’t. 

Until I was in my late teens, I thought the concept of fatherhood was overrated.  I thought, “Hey, I’ve never had a father and I am just fine.”  I finally began to get into and understand the traditions of Father’s Day after I married, since Deborah’s father was very much alive.  (This will be her first Father's Day without him.) 

After the birth of our daughters, all of a sudden, fatherhood became a serious responsibility.  I didn’t think that I had a good point of reference for what a father should do, how a father should act, or how a father should “be,”  but I was, of course, wrong.  I had all kinds of models to look back on and learn from.

My brother, Jim is 13 years older than me.  He taught me how to shoot a gun, ride a bicycle, change gears with a straight stick and a thousand other things that daddies traditionally do.  He did this in spite of the fact that I ran around his car with a rake and melted the buttons on his car radio with the car cigarette lighter.   

Uncle Freddie, (my Mother’s brother,) gave me a love for the smell of fresh sawdust.  He taught me how to drive a nail without bending it and how to saw a straight line with a handsaw.  He built a wagon for my goat (Carol) to pull.  He built a downhill racer (Nellybell) that I rode down the old clay hill near my house for years. 

Jack Towns (daddy Jack,) a neighbor and friend of the family from church, tried to teach me how to milk a cow and goat.  He also demonstrated how to slaughter chickens and turkeys for food.  I never got the hang of any of this, but that wasn’t his fault because he tried. 

J. B. Hobbs taught me about planting corn, squash, beans and tomatoes.  He let me ride with him on his tractor and in the back of his truck occasionally.  He built the first homemade butterbean sheller on Chicken Road.  

Hilton Perdue and his wife, Alice took me fishing and taught me how to bait a hook and clean fish.  He also took me to his daddy’s house so I could see him make cane syrup.  It was amazing to a little boy like me.  His cane mill was powered by a belt wrapped around the back wheel of his 1928 or 29 model-A Ford truck. (I’m not that old.  It was a really old truck even then.)

Kannah Belflower was a physically imposing but soft-spoken man in my church.  He always asked me about what was going on in my life and he always seemed to know when I needed an encouraging word.  I learned from him that kind words are appreciated by practically everyone and we should take the time to give them.

When I began to think about it, a lot of men, particularly from my home church, stepped in and gave of their time to do fatherly things with me and other kids that needed it.   Half of these men are long gone and I never even thought to tell them thanks for all that they did for me when I was growing up.  I should have, but just never did.  

If your father is still around, by all means spend some time with him this weekend and let him know how much you love and appreciate him.  It would also be nice to call or send a note to those other men that have gone out of their way to do fatherly things with you or someone else who needed it.  It will do you good to say it and you don’t know how much they might need to hear it.