I say, I say, Happy Father's Day Dad!
Memories of Dad and a big Rooster
Dad died almost two years ago. He led an interesting life. Dad grew up in the 40s and 50s outside Huntington, WV with his twin, Karl and older brother Darrell. My grandparents had a small tractor business and subsistence farm. Dad knew what it was to ride around on a mule, plow a field, gather eggs from chickens, slaughter hogs, hunt squirrels and work on small tractor engines. And, of course, torment his siblings.
He married young, had me at 21, went to university, was drafted and went to Vietnam, came home and worked in industry after finishing his degree from Marshall University. He and mom had my brother Stephen. He then went to Asbury Seminary and lived the rest of his working life as a United Methodist Pastor. Along the way he was an evangelist and singer who recorded two albums of gospel music and tried to launch a career in Christian music with his remarkable voice.
He was devoted to mom his entire life. He took his calling as a minister very seriously and was very concerned that he appear properly professional and holy. He loved a nice suit and he loved wingtip shoes. He was beloved by his congregations.
But what’s funny is that probably my favorite memory of dad is that for all his gravitas, he loved cartoons. In particular, he was a fan of Foghorn Leghorn.
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I can still hear his loud laugh when the big rooster was explaining something to another chicken or to a weasel. ‘I say, I say, son, you’re doing it all wrong!’ In a weird way, dad’s voice was like Foghorn’s. Or maybe Foghorn’s was like dad’s. Both of them animated by a love of simple things and rural life.
We would get up on Saturday mornings, well into my young adulthood, and watch Looney Tunes. I was always a fan of the Coyote and Roadrunner. But it was hard to deny the down-home, rural charm of Foghorn. He was an animated Jerry Clower. And if you don’t know who Jerry Clower was, I suggest you take just a moment to listen.
Whenever I watch the movie Stripes, I think of dad. He laughed at Bill Murray until he cried, and would sometimes quote the movie and chuckle. His memories of basic training made the film so much funnier to him.
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Despite dad’s devotion to being a very proper pastor, there was something inside him that just wanted to laugh. And I, a kid who loved cartoons and writing and who kind of wanted to be a comedian, well I couldn’t get enough of laughing dad. In fact, as I write this on my third night shift in my very appropriately serious job as an emergency physician, it occurs to me that maybe I tried to hone my ability to make people laugh because I wanted so much to hear dad do it.
Well I have a CT scan to review. And in honor of my dad’s love of food, I have eaten literally all night. (Night shift nurses bring food and it’s awesome.)
But what I want to say is just this.
Dad, I really miss you. And next time I see Foghorn I’ll laugh out loud for you. I hope you and Jerry Clower are yucking it up and eating well up in glory.
Edwin
A beautiful tribute! Thank you for sharing your dad with us!
Thank you so much for sharing your dad with us!