Tuesday, June 20, 2006
The Terrible Swede's post about his Dad inspired Rick over at Old Solar to write about his Dad. Inspired by Rick's post , I decided to put this memory down to ... silicon. Xrysostom is also in on the action.
OK, so this has morphed into an ad hoc carnival for Dads. So be it. Mutti over at Beckfest has a short but sweet homage to her hubby. (We hubbies like these!) Jon Ledetroit reminds us that forgiveness is a Fatherly trait. Des Moines 360's Dad is a cowboy. Jeremy is celebrating teeth. Favorite Apron photoblogged the Dads in her life; so did Caroline at Our Little House, and also Lutheran Lucy... Tim May gives us a good Father's Day sermon on the faith of our fathers. Matt at Lutheran Loser compares talks with his father with talking with his Heavenly Father.
When I was about 8 years old, a school chum and I were walking home from school. It was some kind of minor holiday, because it was only a half-day, and I was looking forward to going home, since I knew my Dad had the day off.
We took a short cut through a debris-ridden field, which just happened to have some kind of sewer access hole in the middle of it. The kind that's made out of poured cement, about 10 feet in diameter and 15 feet deep, with a big iron grate on top, secured with the mother of all padlocks. Some older boys had managed to pry the padlock off the cover and were milling around, as older boys are wont to do, wondering what to do with this new found treasure of a big pit. Along come two 8 year olds, and Voila! Instant tormenting satisfaction. Yes, they decided that putting my friend Shawn and I in the hole would be great fun.
Of course, we resisted. They tried to corral us towards the hole, but we kept evading. Shawn took advantage of a gap in between two of the three boys and made a break for it. As he ran towards the corner (our houses were still out of view) I yelled after him to get my Dad. The boys threw rocks at him as he ran. My description makes the boys sound inept (and they were, to be sure) but they made up for that in meanness. They managed to swipe my jacket (my prized Dallas Cowboys Team Jacket from Sears Roebuck & Co.!) and throw it in the hole.
A couple of minutes later, my Dad came charging around the corner, full speed. For that moment, he was the Cavalry, a locomotive, and Superman all rolled into one. Needless to say, the older boys took off, and my Dad retrieved my jacket from the bottom of the hole.
I reminded him of this this past Christmas; funny, but he has no memory of it. Me, I will never forget it.
OK, so this has morphed into an ad hoc carnival for Dads. So be it. Mutti over at Beckfest has a short but sweet homage to her hubby. (We hubbies like these!) Jon Ledetroit reminds us that forgiveness is a Fatherly trait. Des Moines 360's Dad is a cowboy. Jeremy is celebrating teeth. Favorite Apron photoblogged the Dads in her life; so did Caroline at Our Little House, and also Lutheran Lucy... Tim May gives us a good Father's Day sermon on the faith of our fathers. Matt at Lutheran Loser compares talks with his father with talking with his Heavenly Father.
When I was about 8 years old, a school chum and I were walking home from school. It was some kind of minor holiday, because it was only a half-day, and I was looking forward to going home, since I knew my Dad had the day off.
We took a short cut through a debris-ridden field, which just happened to have some kind of sewer access hole in the middle of it. The kind that's made out of poured cement, about 10 feet in diameter and 15 feet deep, with a big iron grate on top, secured with the mother of all padlocks. Some older boys had managed to pry the padlock off the cover and were milling around, as older boys are wont to do, wondering what to do with this new found treasure of a big pit. Along come two 8 year olds, and Voila! Instant tormenting satisfaction. Yes, they decided that putting my friend Shawn and I in the hole would be great fun.
Of course, we resisted. They tried to corral us towards the hole, but we kept evading. Shawn took advantage of a gap in between two of the three boys and made a break for it. As he ran towards the corner (our houses were still out of view) I yelled after him to get my Dad. The boys threw rocks at him as he ran. My description makes the boys sound inept (and they were, to be sure) but they made up for that in meanness. They managed to swipe my jacket (my prized Dallas Cowboys Team Jacket from Sears Roebuck & Co.!) and throw it in the hole.
A couple of minutes later, my Dad came charging around the corner, full speed. For that moment, he was the Cavalry, a locomotive, and Superman all rolled into one. Needless to say, the older boys took off, and my Dad retrieved my jacket from the bottom of the hole.
I reminded him of this this past Christmas; funny, but he has no memory of it. Me, I will never forget it.
