One of the most influential people in my life has been my dad. I want to write a tribute to him and the huge affect he has had on my life through the years. My brother and sisters all have different things to say about him and obviously I can only write about him in my own words. So, this blog entry is about him, the greatest dad a boy could ever have.
He was born in LaFollette, Tn. on January 22nd, 1926. He grew up in the mountains of northeast Tn. As a teenager, he once saved a friend from drowning in a creek and his singing voice was magical. He also played football in the days of leather helments without a facemask.
He has a split in his bottom teeth to prove it.
In 1944 at the age of 19, he joined the U.S. Navy. While in bootcamp in Great Lakes, Michigan, his platoon was granted a 72 hour leave. He hitch hiked all the way to LaFollette, gave my mom an engagement ring, and then hitch hiked back. He was assigned to Halsey's 7th fleet in the Pacific theatre of operations. He was with the fleet during the infamous storm that became known as "Halsey's Typhoon". During the storm, he spent 72 hours straight in the engine room helping to maintain the ship's headway in 60'-70' waves. When battle stations were called my 19 year old dad would man a 20mm anti aircraft gun shooting at dive bombing Japanese aircraft. He was with the fleet during the battle of Okinawa providing fire support for the Marines who were taking the island.
In 1950, he left the Navy in order to get his degree of divinity from Southern Theological Seminary. He re-entered the Navy in 1953 as an officer in the Chaplain Corps. During these years, my sister Becky, brother John, and sister Jody were born.
In 1966 he was sent to Vietnam as a chaplain assigned to the first Marine division. He spent a year on the beach in a place calleed "Chu-Lai". He would conduct sunday services and counsel Marines who were daily engaged in bloody and horrific firefights. He would also help collect dog tags off of marines who had died. He was a constant source of comfort and help to men who desperately needed it. He did a second tour of Vietnam in 1968, this time in Da-Nang. He never did talk about Vietnam much and knowing what I know now, I don't blame him. He did tell me of the time when early one morning, as the men were walking out of their tents, a good friend of his stepped on a mine which blew his legs off killing him. Dad also came across a marine who had died in a firefight. This marine happened to be the son of a fellow chaplain who was a good friend. My dad saw death and destruction up close and personal yet through it all, he was loved and honored by the men he served with. They looked to him for strength and answers in the hell known as war; and he was always there for them.
After his tour in 1968, dad returned to the states for good. He was now a Lt. Commander and eventually became a Captain. In 1977, he retired from the Navy with 33 years in service. He became a Pastor of a Baptist church in St. Mary's Ga. I remember him as an incredible Bible teacher and the best pastor that church ever employed. There are bad memories of that church because of what they did to him, but that is a story for another day. I choose to cling to the good times I had learning and growing spiritually under his instruction.
In my childhood, I remember my dad as a kind man whom I did not want to disappoint. My relationship with him was always a good one. He was always patient and loving toward me. During the turbulent years of my divorce and the time after when I entered the years of self induced misery and a frantic search for happinness, he (and my mother) were always there to lift me up, I will be forever grateful for that.
My dad always gave me wise counsel even though many times, I did not listen. He lived his faith. He understood doctrine to duty and his faith had feet. As the years went by, my dad's health deteriorated. In spite of it all, he maintained a positive attitude and was always ready with a quick joke or word of encouragement. He is the most kind and generous man I have ever known. He possessed a quiet strength that never wavered. He, more than any other person I have known, became like Christ in His humanity. My dad was a person who never criticized, always lifted up, provided wise counsel, led by example, lived what he believed, and underneath it all he had what it took to get the job done. He possessed what every man wants and that is the ability to always come through no matter what the circumstances.
On a beautiful October day, the 12th of the month in 1999 my mother called us to say that my dad had fallen. I remeber driving to the house 10 minutes away, rounding the corner and seeing a police officer running from his car into my dad's house. I remember going in the house and seeing my dad lying on the floor in the bathroom next to the tub. I remember cradling his head in my arms and looking into his eyes. I remember seeing a brief moment of recognition and then seeing his eyes go slightly in different directions. I remember feeling a sense that if he could, he would have said, "Its ok son, your turn has come, be the man, take care of your mother, I'll see you on the other side"..
Rescue took him to a hospital where we discovered he had suffered a massive hemmorrage in his brain. Looking at the x-ray, it was obvious that he was done. I remember that moments after they took him off the vent, he stopped breathing. I remember our family standing in a circle around his bed and my wife leading us in a verse of "Amazing Grace".
If I can be half the man that my dad was then I will have accomplished something worthwhile in this life.
