In loving memory of Poppa John

Dear Jennifer, Rebe and Clark

Poppa would have been 90 today.  It has been almost five years since he died, yet I think about him  quite a bit. On his birthday,  oddly,  I really do not remember birthdays that he celebrated for himself.  He was so modest; his own birthdays were just another day on the calendar.  I really cannot remember him making his own birthday any sort of event. To celebrate his birthday, I thought I would pass on a few lessons that I remember. First, he always had time for us.  I remember him pulling into the driveway when he came in from a trip or from the office.  From the moment that he arrived, he was at our disposal.  He taught me to throw a football, throw a baseball and shoot a basketball.  He probably did all of these "sporting events"  while still in his work clothes.  Although some Dads (including me) want time to decompress or adjust to life outside work, I recall that he made time for us.  I cannot remember him being too busy or needing to carve out time for himself or his events.  It didn't occur to me until I was older that he really liked being around his own kids more than anything. Second, his "yes was Yes and his no was No".  The truth was not optional.  His word was his bond.  I have tried to live by such an example and I know that I have failed miserably at times.  If I have failed, it is not for lack of an example of a good and upright man.  I do not recall him stretching the truth or telling little white lies.  I do not remember any wink and a nod and "this is between us" type of moment.  People like this are fewer and fewer today.  In fact, it seems like with folks like Poppa  there are not many layers to peel back as the top layer is what you get : honesty. Third, the beauty of the earth enthralled him.  He could be flying to another state or driving over the flattest part of Texas,  but he always seemed to be seduced by the grandeur of what God had made out of nothing.  I know that I have had a love affair with beaches;, but my Dad love affair with what God made extended to all sorts of places.  He wanted us to see all sorts of places in America and Canada because they were worth seeing.  We took long car trips, not because Dad needed to spend 12 hours a day in a station wagon with  4 kids and his wife.  We took the car trips because there was something special about everyplace that we went and everything that we saw.  As I think about it more and more, he still had a boyish sense of awe.  Every time we went up in his plane, he had a sense that "I can't believe that I get to fly" all over again.   Any time we went on a long car trip, we got to go someplace that we had not seen before and might not see again.  He seemed to remember every small town in Texas.  I read something once that said with God there are no little people and no little places.  I often forget  (shame on me) one or both parts of that statement.  My dad set a pretty good example of the fact that every place that you go is unique: breathe it in. I love you guys so much.  I knew Poppa John well enough to know how proud he would be of his grandchildren. On a less serious note, Ranger is 2 today. 

-Dad