Legacy of a Lifetime- Dad's Story

DAD's STORY : LEGACY of a LIFETIME

       I've begun working on a project with my Dad.  Having spent most of the last month (since Sept. 15) with him and my Mom in two hospitals and a rehab center, I've been able to spend hours just listening to him and Mom talk about their lives together.  My Dad has talked about his boyhood, his time in the military, he and my Mom meeting and dating, and their marriage, and our family.  It's been a wonderful experience, and one that I've decided to share with you.

  It's called "Legacy of a Lifetime."  Some people's legacy is an Olympic gold medal, or a Super Bowl, or a Pultizer Prize.  Dad's never had any of those one-time grandiose events in his life, but instead, he's lived a whole lifetime being who he is, and making an impact on all of our lives.  It's this complete story that I want to write and share.

  I've signed up to take a "Memoir Writing" at a local community center, led by a local author.  It's six weeks of writing, sharing, and learning from each other.  There are about a dozen people in the class.  I'm looking forward to being a part of it.   Hopefully, it will help me with this and other writing projects.

Legacy of a Lifetime :: (Part 1) :: INTRO

   One of the natural things accompanying a hospital stay is a lot of downtime in the room among family and friends to visit and share with each other.  This stay with my Dad, Mom, and myself has been such an experience.

   Dad has often felt the freedom to express himself in sharing his faith with nurses and other caretakers.  It has been joyful to hear my Dad witness in such a powerful way, and we have also met many other Christian brothers and sisters who are also caretakers at the hospitals.

   He also weaves stories from the past into a life's tapestry of experiences.  These stories relate mostly to two chapters in his life :  growing up and getting married, and finding a faith in Jesus Christ.

   I will attempt to relate some of these stories to you.  As it is a late hour, and time for sleep, we will begin this retelling of these life memories tomorrow.

   Come back and let's enjoy my Dad's life experiences together.

Legacy of a Lifetime (Part 2) :: EARLY YEARS

   As I stated earlier, it was late last night whenever I started to write down some of dad's thoughts and story.  I was getting tired and sleepy, so we delayed it until this morning. I'm not sure that I'm any more rested now (!), but I'm going to attempt to relate a couple of stories.

EARLY YEARS

   My dad grew up on a farm, the youngest of six children, son of a working 'single' mom. Grandmother Wingate was still legally married, but her husband was a traveling salesman and wasn't home a lot, and at some point, he and my grandmother decided for him to leave.  So my dad's memories of his dad are few.  He said that the only two things that his dad gave him were a violin and a pen.  So, his Mom had a heavy load with so many kids, and she worked multiple jobs and ran a farm to help support them.

   Dad was originally from South Carolina, and lived in quite a few different towns and cities.  He was born in Bishopville, and also lived in Sumter and Chester, and later briefly in Charleston and Camden.  He started first grade school in Hillcrest, where they lived on a farm, and then moved to Sumter to finish grade school.

BASEBALL OR BUST

DAD HAD A PASSION FOR PLAYING BASEBALL

   Dad split his high school years in Chester, SC and Statesville, NC.  At Chester, in the 7th grade, a friend told my dad he was going out for baseball, and prodded him to come along to tryouts.  My dad was relunctant at first, but the idea grew on him, and so he went along, and ended up making the team as a third string third baseman.  Keep in mind that back then, there was no Junior High or Middle School.  The high school also included grades 7-8.  My dad was one of the few seventh graders to make the varsity high school baseball team.  He was also one of the fastest players on the team.  At 5'11 and 125 lbs., he was thin and scrawny, but he could also outrace just about anyone. 

   Dad played for a coach named Al Sheely, whose career included a short pro baseball career, one year each with the New York Yankees and the Chicago Cubs.  Even though it was brief, his pro stint with the Yankees happened to be in 1927, when they won the World Series.  He was a teammate of Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig.  Coach Sheely once told my dad, "Don't give up on baseball.  You could make it to the pros one day."  At third base, my Dad had to break immediately on a hit ball, chase it down, catch it, and simultaneously whip it to first base.  Dad's coach really believed in him, saying, "You've got a great right arm. I'm gonna make a pitcher out of you someday."

   By ninth grade, Dad had worked his way up to being part of the road team.  He remembers one instance, in a road game, in which the starting third baseman went down with an injury.  The second stringer went in, and shortly thereafter, he also went out.  Dad was the only third baseman left, so he went into the game.  Excited but nervous, he finished out the rest of the game.  Dad said that he had plenty of experience going in to a game for a few innings, but he had never before played an entire game.

   The coach had a drill that really showcased my dad's speed.  A batter would line up at home plate, and a pitcher would throw the ball.  The batter was instructed to try to hit a fly ball into the outfield.  Another player would line up next to the batter, and when the ball was hit, he would sprint into the outfield and try to catch the ball before it hit the ground.  My dad says that he was the only one on the team who could catch the ball every single time. He was incredibly fast as a teenage athlete.  Some people that I've told this to have questioned whether this could be true.  But I totally believe my dad's story. I'm not sure who else could perform this feat;  maybe Bo Jackson in his prime.  

   Then in about the 10th grade, something strange happened that would not only impact my dad's baseball career, but also the rest of his life.  One afternoon, a coach blew his whistle signaling that practice was over.  Everyone was supposed to toss all of the bats and balls into a pile, and head to the locker room.  This particular day, one of dad's teammates yelled out to a friend, and tossed a baseball to him.  His friend had a baseball bat in his hand, and instinctively drew it back and swung at the ball. 

   That baseball changed the path of my dad's future.  The line drive only traveled a few feet before it hit my dad in the right temple, knocking him out cold.  After a few minutes, he was revived, but was incredibly dazed and groggy.  Dad says that during that time, he would wear dark glasses and go into a theater, not so much to watch a movie, but to find a place that wouldn't hurt his eyes.  Dad's eyesight in that eye is now about 20/1800.  He has a hard time even seeing a person across a room without his glasses.  It is almost impossible for him to read anything that is not directly in front of him.

LAST MAN OUT

   As dad grew up, being the youngest of six kids, brothers and sisters began growing up, going to work, getting married, and moving away from home.  About the time my dad graduated from high school, his last brother got married, and left him the only child at home.  Soon afterwards, my dad joined the Air Force, and also moved away.

   Dad and his family moved when he was around 16 to Statesville, NC and he finished the final two years of high school and graduated there in the Class of '49.   

Legacy of a Lifetime (Part 3) :: MARRIAGE & MILITARY

A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

   During his time in Statesville, my Dad and Mom met and started dating.  The night that they met is another story woven into my Dad's life tapestry.  He tells the story whenever he gets the chance.

   My mom, Betty, lived in Troutman, which is a very small town near Statesville.  Her two uncles ran a skating rink, and my mom frequented it with her friends.  One night, she was there with a friend when my dad and his friend also showed up.  His friend and my mom's friend somehow knew each other, or met that night, and hit it off.  At the end of the night, he offered her a ride home, but she had a friend (my mom).   My dad's friend had a truck, and the cab only had room for three people.  So my dad's friend said, "Someone is going to have to sit on someone's lap!" and the other girl said, "I'm NOT sitting on anyone's lap," so just by the process of elimination, my mom agreed to sit on my dad's lap on the ride home.

   Both my dad and my mom say that they do not remember many of the specifics of that night, only the part about riding home together (literally!).     Even though my mom agreed to the arrangement, and my dad went along with it, they were both terrified and afraid.  Neither of them talked to each other, or said much at all.  They do not remember how they ever started dating, or the next time they met.  But obviously, this was an interesting start to their life together.

   Mom and Dad began dating while they were still in high school.  After their strange first meeting, they do not really remember when they saw each other again or started dating, but Mom thinks it must have been back at the skating rink, because they both went there often, especially Mom, since her uncles ran the place.

AIR FORCE @ CHEYENNE

   After high school, Dad joined the Air Force.  He flew to Texas for basic training at Lackland AFB in San Antonio, then on to his assignment at Francis E. Warren AFB in Cheyenne, Wyoming.  He was attending classes, was in the Top 10% of his class, and also had a job as a munitions clerk on the base.  He would check various weapons and ammo in and out to those authorized to use them.

   Dad related one story recently about Mom missing him and wanting to come out to visit him.  She and dad's mother had actually booked a flight or made plans to take the trip.  But Dad says he observed the others when they were out on leave, and he was aware how they behaved around other women.  He told my mom to cancel the trip.  This was a pretty bold and gallant move for my dad to make, considering how much they were missing each other.  Mom was disappointed but understood the reasons.  She never made it out to Cheyenne.   Dad has -always- had a desire for them to go out there to Cheyenne, so he could show Mom his base.  He has also mentioned the Frontier Days festival.

Cheyenne's Frontier Day Festival

   Mom has told me that Dad was only stationed in Cheyenne just a little over a year, so he only had one opportunity, in July 1951, to go to the Frontier Days festival, which has been held during the summer for many years.  Evidently Dad could not get a pass to go off base during the days of the festival.  I know that he really wished to go. It would've been something like a Bucket List item for him.  And all through the years, he had mentioned it many times.  I am sure he wanted to take Mom and go back out there for a trip to visit his old Air Force base and to take in Frontier Days with her.  Unfortunately, his health problems inhibited him from traveling, and this sadly never ever happened.   I hope to go out there someday and visit all of those sites that he wanted so badly to revisit.

   Dad was stationed there about a year when his mom had a nervous breakdown, and dad was given an honorable discharge to go home.  Dad had made it to PFC and then Colonel, and was planning on staying in for awhile.  However, he was the youngest son, and needed at home.  It ended up that my grandmother moved in with my mom and dad, and stayed until her death in February 1975.  She was, for all intensive purposes, a second mama to my sister and I from my birth until her death.  I was in college at the time, and during a trip home at Christmas, she told me that she would not get to see me again. At the time, I didn't think anything about it, but her prediction came true, and I came home on a plane from Florida a short time later for her funeral.  My sister was nine at the time our grandmother passed away.  She was a wonderful, caring lady who helped while both of my parents worked each day.