To Dad

If my father were living today he would be 110 years old. Born in 1905 he saw the first car come to Dyersburg, Tennessee, the first plane land, and the first paved highway.

His dad had moved to Dyersburg to work on the railroad, but ended up working for his brother in law in construction. He was gifted in concrete work so he stayed busy putting the finishing touch on bridges and beautiful buildings. My father inherited his dad’s talents.

In the 1920 when there was no work to be found my father used his skill with concrete to make tomb stones, putting the names and all the information on them. He also made frogs, flower pots, and a large goose all out of concrete. He didn’t make much, but he did make a living.

He was too young for the First World War and too old because of children, he had four, for the Second World War. Dad went to work with Fowler Cooper at the Federal Compress where he spent the next forty years sometimes in the late 20’s. He later moved to Jackson with Mr. Cooper, there I was born and live all of my life until after college.

Unlike me he was quiet, talked so little that you could have put all his words in a small paper bag. Read everything he could get his hands on, and could make anything out of either concrete or wood; his skills were professional, I inherited none of them.

He loved the Lord, mom, all of his children, arrow heads, and his wood shop in the back of our home at 246 South Lindsey Street. He was first class in his dealings with people, never took one drink, never smoked a cigarette, and never chewed tobacco. He always told me if you don’t take the first one then you don’t have to take the last one.

I miss him, sometimes after 28 years I still want to reach for the phone and call him. If God had given me millions of dollars and told me to buy a father I could not do as well as God did in giving me to dad. I love you dad, I wish I were more like you, I would sure be a better person. Happy Birthday, I know you are well and all the family is with you, I am the only one of 246 South Lindsey Street still left, see you Dad, love you. Ivan

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Published in: on May 20, 2015 at 11:28 pm  Comments (2)  

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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. That describes “Pop” perfectly! I grew up without grandparents so Ma and Pop were my surrogate grandparents. Me and Johnny and Amy loved them so much!! We miss them both too.
    Sandra

    • Thanks, hope you guys are well,


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