Dad

My father once said, I think after the passing of his brother Roger, that we should write eulogies while the person is still alive. Who cares if cousin It from Boise thought you were a great guy if he never told you while you were alive. Well this evening's deer hunt was a rain out and with a warm fire built in the cabin's barrel stove I'm settling in try and do just that.
The problem with anything like that is the starting. With my father that problem's compounded even futher. For you see my dad did more things than anyone I've ever known. And not normal things either. Did you know he once raised mink? Or built a wooden boat? You see he's the kind of guy who when he wanted a goldfish pond for his patio he didn't go out and buy a kit. Instead he built a concrete one complete with a waterfall made from stones he gathered at the river. For the patio he built, next to the house he built. Just business as usual.
Of course not everything was a success, I'll never forget the summer he and I spent on the Ohio river commercial fishing. During the worst commercial fishing year anyone could ever remember. But those were the exceptions. Even with things he bought Dad was never one to stand pat and leave well enough alone. Every treestand he ever owned had the straps replaced with ones of his own design. They are of course a marked improvement and I set mine up the same way now. Always thinking, tinkering, everything could use a little tweeking in Dad's eyes. I'd love to see a formal resume for Dad. Can you imagine it?
Railroad Worker
Expert gardener
Commercial fisherman
Fur dealer
Tank Driver in the army
Ginseng farmer
Carpenter
Brick mason
Fishing tackle store owner
Worker at an aircraft engine plant
World class taxidermist
The list goes on and on. And somehow doing all this and raising us kids so we never wanted for anything. By the way next time you go down that escalator in the middle of Bass Pro Shop that mount of a big tom turkey strutting on a limb over your head is one of his. All the different Bass Pro Shops of some of Dad's work in them. When he retired from taxidermy they bought out his entire shop, he was that good. My Dad had a natural curiosity about the world around him that led to him knowing more about his world than most naturalists ever do. He wouldn't just tell you the names of the plants on a walk but how they were used medicinally, how the pioneers used then for dye or for fiber, what the different indian tribes used them for. And then follow that up with come over here and look at this bat house I built, some have just moved in...
This love of the outdoors leads to the subject of the brothers and their deer hunting. Roger and Virgil started first. I think Virgil just wanted out of the house. He would just camp and tell stories. hunting was more of an afterthought.
Then one day Dad did the unthinkable. He actually killed a deer. Back in the day when there just weren't very many deer. Nothing like nowadays. With an old wooden Bear recurve bow no less. He was as good of a shot with a primitive bow as anyone I've ever seen. Well pretty soon Roger too got a deer and it was on. I guess between them over the next few decades they must have harvested 60 or 70 deer and became master bowhunters. My favorite memories though were of setting around a campfire listening to Dad and Roger telling the samo storis over again we had all heard a dozen times before. No one minded one bit.
I'm constantly told how much I look like my Dad. Frankly that terrifies me, I just hope I can be half the man he was as well. He was generous and kind and funny and talented. And he just happened to look like just like his father. Which is also even more terrifying since the only person I've ever held in as high esteem as my father was his father. Whatever you do please don't ever judge me in comparison to those two men, no one could ever stand up.
Even in old age Dad never quit building, tinkering. Be built a series of steps and small decks down the steep hillside in front of his house down to the creek. Then bridged the small creek there with a deck so in the summer he could set there in the shade and listen to the water run underneath. Why? I think because he could imagine it, could see it in his mind so he had to build it. He also planted thousands of flowers and plants and became the Highland County Senior Centers resident pool hustler dominating all their local tournaments. I remember we were driving to West Union early one morning to sell some ginseng and out of the blue Dad said I can't complain I've had good health and a good life. I remember thinking no you've had a great life and there will never be another like you. I don't know why I just didn't tell him that at the time...