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| 30 years ago today I lost my dad in a farm accident. I am who I am because of him, the last name I was blessed with, and I will always walk in his shadow. He left this earthly world for His heavenly home tragically and much too young at 46.
My grandparents sold their farm in Delaware in the early 1950s to move to Florida to help start a new church in that area. Due to the nature of his family and the number of siblings in his family, there was no place for him on that original family farm. He and my mom left that and set out to build a farm operation that was less than many others have done. But, in doing so, he built into myself and siblings something far more important and lasting. He taught us the importance of a relationship with a Good Good Father and that this world will leave us empty and yearning for more. He taught us a work ethic and how to reason. He taught us the ability to look others in the eye and own what we do and say. He created in us the desire to make a difference in the lives of others and to care for the widows and orphans. He left us a name that has opened door after door after door. He left us the ability to take on hard things, to pull ourselves up when things aren't the best, and the processing ability to recognize that life isn't meant to be easy or fair. He helped us see that people are important and things are just things. Money will burn and time will pass but one thing stands forever.
As a conscientious objector due to his upbringing, he and my mom served as missionaries to Canada for three years after they were first married. He would have loved to have joined the armed forces but deferred to what he felt was the right thing to do at that time. During that time they lived on an island in the bush and he became a bush pilot flying people, supplies, missionaries, and medical needs around the lakes of Canada. They raised much of their food, cooked on a wood stove, carried all their drinking and bath water out of the lake, and cut ice during the winter for their and their neighbors' needs. They adopted my oldest sister from the orphanage there right before finding out my second sister was on the way.
In returning to the less than desirable north Florida area to eek out a hard scrabble farm they began on their own in the 80s. They did without while using duct tape and baling twine to hold together the little they had. They had lost their trailer house to a fire soon after getting married so they had lost everything they had already so it was just a matter of picking up the pieces and building as they could. Over time, they built a farmstead that my mom lives on yet today. His yearning was to always move west as he had lived and worked with family in Colorado and Wyoming as an older teenager. We actually went to look for ranches out there in the 90s but chose to remain where we were.
Armed with only a high school diploma, he and mom worked to raise a family of 5. Between trying to rent small unwanted patches of land and buying a few pieces of equipment to row crop with, raising some hogs in the woods, and cobbling together a cantankerous set of wild momma cows, they worked to pay the bills and put food on the table. Growing up, we never knew who would be at our home overnight or at the table for a meal. Dad would take in anyone that needed a helping hand. Many times mom may have up to 15 people at her table for a meal. I have a 6th "sibling" that lived with us from the time he was 14 until he got married at 24. That guy worked for us for many years. In addition, dad would hire most anyone that needed help, needed encouragement, or just needed food and a bed. I slept in the living room on the couch for a year once due to not having a spot in a bed to sleep.
We had no central heat and air in our home. Only after his death did mom decide to put in central heat and air. Imagine the miserable summer days and nights my mom and sisters had to deal with cooking and working inside. My parents felt giving, serving, and pinching pennies would pay off one day. We hosted probably 12 foreign individuals that lived with us for anywhere from 6 weeks to 2 years. These were from Germany, France, Switzerland, China, and Belgium. We hosted a number of ag groups from China and Japan at our little farm as well as many other tours and groups.
Over time the hogs left as we began a milking operation. With 5 children, we each had a day a week we did the milking. I started at 5 years old pushing a 5 gallon bucket around the parlor to reach the cows. When not milking, we fed the calves, helped with mixing TMR, or whatever else needed done.
With his insight and abilities, he eventually grew the operation to a decent size while taking on an immense amount of debt with very little equity. His leadership ability began to shape itself through Florida Farm Bureau, the Southeast Dairy Association, and many other positions and industry spots. He became involved in the FL Soybean Association and then into the American Soybean Association. He began to be invited to Washington to address situations that the various industries were facing. He spent many days walking the halls of Congress, addressing Congress directly, and becoming involved in trade issues. Becoming president of the American Soybean Association during a contentious time between it and the United Soybean Board, he worked to temper the distance between the two groups and centered the direction of both of them. Many a state or national leader sat at our dinner table discussing ag issues with my dad.
Dad spent over 250 days away from the farm during one of last years of his earthly life dealing with trade and soybean issues. Strangely enough, due to that, myself and brothers were somewhat prepared to keep the place going at his death. He spent countless days in Geneva Switzerland dealing with GATT and NAFTA issues. His days in Washington became quite lengthy as he was called on to work with the Secretary of Ag, USDA officials, and Congress working on trade, Farm Bills, and many other issues of the day. He could pretty much walk on a plane and get a seat anytime anywhere due to the miles he traveled. He had a direct line to Secretary Clayton Yeutter, many Senators and Congressmen, as well as spending time with a President or two. I remember the time he spent time with Howard Buffett on his farm in Illinois and the stories that came out of that.
He wore his cowboy boots and less than stylish suits everywhere he went in these roles. Appearance and style wasn't important. Meeting others where they were was what was important to him. Changing lives and helping others be better was what was important. Leaving others in a better spot and pushing them up even if they had to stand on his shoulders is what was important. Leading his family to have more and be more is what was important. Pointing others to Christ was of utmost importance and how he modeled his life.
On this day remembering his death, knowing his love for this great country, and what he has done for me leaves me desiring a minute to sit on the tailgate with him and discuss life. I was the last one to talk with him that morning as I took him fuel to fill the combine to finish the last field of corn. As I left, I can still hear him say, "Thanks sonny boy".
This year just hits differently at 30 years of loss. As I realize I can't carry the boots he walked in, that I have failed at so many things he has taught me, and that I have come up short on many things in life, I am proud to call him my dad. I and my family are who we are because of who he was. I am where I am because of him. I have to work to change many things about myself to reflect better on him. Yet, I know he could look at me and tell me he loved me and was proud of me. That is because of who he was.
On this day, I needed to remind myself of how blessed I am. To my hero, Dad I miss you!
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A tribute to a great man!
