Nice to be Reminded....

In the midst of the turmoil and struggles detailed in the last post, I was gently reminded yesterday of who I am and where I came from. The reason these memories are so powerful and intense is because the people behind the memories were themselves a powerful influence on my life. And they were just plain good folks. Simple as that. I mean, no one has fond memories of a scoundrel, do they?

Well, I'll start with Friday night which started out well, but ended poorly. Some kind of 24 hour stomach bug that just made the whole night miserable. My sister called Saturday afternoon and said the gang was going to get together and make christmas candy at my brother's house. This is kind of a new "tradition" with us, (is 2 years a tradition?), and I hated to miss it, but food was the last item of interest to me Saturday. It was also my youngest son's birthday and we didn't get to do what we had planned since I was in bed all day long recovering. Just kind of a downer day.

Feeling mostly better Sunday morning, but running a little behind, we got ourselves to church. As usual there were a couple of gentlemen at the door greeting and handing out the day's announcement sheets. I know one of the men fairly well, but I didn't know the other man's name, (I do now). As is my custom I stood there for a minute or two and greeted some folks and waited for Tandy to arrive. That's when nostalgia and memory and heritage and longing for the past were all handed to me. That's when this man, whose name is Bob Reed, leaned a little closer to me, (I had no idea he knew who I was), and said, "I still have an airplane that your father made, you know the ones, he made them out of wire. It's a Jet Commander. Your father was a good man and there just aren't many like him around anymore. Our generation is a dying breed."

I prepared myself for the flood of emotions that strangely didn't come. I found myself wishing I had my brother's ability to recall names and dates, who dad flew with, where he worked and with whom. I settled for a few moments of conversation with someone from the great "older" generation, someone who didn't grow up with all of these luxuries that we take for granted, who saw the depression, lived through a world war, lived without electric lights and indoor plumbing. Someone that knew my father. And like so many others that I have met and talked to, Mr. Reed held dad in very high regard. "He was a good man, I was proud to know him."

Thank you for the reminder Mr. Reed, and for the memories.

I can't count how many times I've heard; your dad was a man of his word, he was a good ol' boy, not many around that could fix 'em or fly 'em like your dad.........your father was a good christian man.

I just hope that I can live up to the name, but I know I'll always be proud to be called......

Jack Dodgen's son,
Craig