It's Father's Day. Meet My Dad!

He was born in a small farming community. Typical of the day, a large family, self sustaining. Farm work was hard work. Character forming. He said “you didn’t tell daddy “no”.” When you were told to do something, you did it. It was depression era stories. Getting electricity, not much to eat, no luxuries. But everyone went to public school, they all got an education, one way or another. He is a Texas farm boy.

Times may have been tough, but there was fun. It was a house full of love. Brothers and sisters, working together. They had a radio for entertainment. Television hadn’t come along yet. But typical of a large family, the spread in age separated them. The brothers would join the military. One would be rejected. But as he grew into a young man, there were sports. Basketball was his choice. He had to miss a year because they couldn’t afford sneakers one season. And he was pretty good. 50 years later, a man would tell me, “You tell him I’m still a better basketball player than he is”. It may have been a time when families had little, but there was still pride. He was a basketball player.

When you grow up in a farming community, your future looks like, well, farming. Back breaking hard work. I don’t recall he ever mentioned that they had a tractor. So dreaming and ingenuity became a way out. Like other family members, he would go to college. But there was no “daddy’s money” to pay for it. He had to work. And work he did. More farm work. His dormitory? A barn. But he would work his way through college, and get that coveted degree. Because in those days, to go anywhere, you needed to graduate from college. He is an educated man.

Out of college, he would become a military man. I remember he told me (as I recall) that he was in a pecan tree picking pecans when he heard about Pearl Harbor. His brothers had gone Army. He would go Air Force. He didn’t fly jets. No overseas tours for him. He said they sent him to the testing fields with a carbine. It fell apart while he was shooting it. So they certified him. His was not a glorious job. He transferred people. He was a desk jockey. But it’s a job that needs doing, and apparently they needed him to do it, or someone else would have sent him somewhere else. His regret? He didn’t transfer himself to somewhere like England or Hawaii. He is a U.S. Veteran.

He would marry. Friends would introduce him to his future bride. It’s still not clear to me how they ever got to the wedding ceremony. Things would get in the way. After meeting, she would go to do missionary work. He would do his military tour. But still, it worked out. As was familiar at the time, two good Christian people joining together to start their life, their family, facing all of the challenges young marrieds faced. Both off of farm life, but with their whole lives ahead of them, they would work together to make things work. He is a married man.

He would take a job as a school teacher. Good, honest, respectable work. Everyone addressed each other as “Mister”. Or “Miss”. Or “Mrs.”. They didn’t call each other by first name. Until the day he retired, he honored that tradition. “Miss Jones”. Or “Mr. Smith”. In fact, he still does. A respecter of persons. Still, he kept the honest tradition of hard work. He is a teacher.
He would eventually become a Principal. He had the grade school on the “wrong” side of town. This was back around integration time. But he picked his staff well, and was always excited to see how many of “his” kids made it into the Top 10 of the graduating class. He went to school early, stayed until all of the kids were gone. He had a paddle. And he knew how to use it. But more than that, he loved the kids. Often he would come home late because “Johnny” had gotten on the wrong bus and had to be found. Or someone had decided to go home with a friend and neglected to call and let their mother known. If a kid was lost, he was worried and on the prowl to find them. He respected his teachers, and they, him. Together, they turned out bright students, proving that regardless of where the school is located, teachers could teach and kids could learn. He is a leader.

He worked in the community. No, not as a city councilman or mayor. Nothing glamorous like that. He coached baseball. Pee Wee League. Minor League. He didn’t make the jump to Little League. Playing on his team was a bit different than others. Fun came first. Kids came first. Winning, well, that was nice, too. On his team, everyone played. Every game. It was one way he built character in kids. Maybe his teams would have won more games, but at the expense of some kids not playing. Every kid played. I don’t think the kids cared. But the parents. Well, they wanted more wins. He didn’t change. Every kid played in every game. He is a coach.

It was the bible belt in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Times were different. Religion was part of life. At least for most folks. And he was a religious man. To the core. Like Adam Ant would sing, “don’t drink, don’t smoke, what do you do?’. He didn’t drink. Didn’t smoke. Was in a church pew every Sunday. Every Sunday. Not for show. For salvation. Read the bible every day. Every day. Not “holier than thou”. That wouldn’t save his soul. He wasn’t out preaching hell, fire and brimstone. He lived the life of a good man. Honest. Hard working. He earned the trust of everyone he knew, and everyone that knew him. A businessman once said, “the day we can’t trust Mr. Taylor is the day we can all close up shop”.That’s a hard earned reputation, which was much more common then than now. He is an example.

Time goes by, and eventually he retired. Maybe a bit earlier than he planned, but things were changing in the education business. His younger brother, who was also in Education, retired the same day. He built up a shop on the back of their property, where he was going to piddle and build things. He put out more fertilize on the lawn than should be allowed by law, so he was always working on the yard. They didn’t really travel, just off to see the grandkids once a year. But they love their house, love their home and their hometown. 

He taught honesty, integrity,morals and ethics. He didn’t do it with sermons or lessons, he did it by living his life his way. Before he got married, he promised his future mother-in-law that he would take care of her daughter all of his life. And today, that is his job, and that is what he is doing. Every minute of every day. When it comes down to it, regardless of all of the accomplishments listed above, know this. My dad is a family man. And nothing else matters.

Sidenote: Back in the ‘80s when I was just starting to sell cars, I would run into some of his students from his time at the high school. It always seemed to come up. “Oh, you’re Mr.Taylor’s son? He whupped my butt!” Seemed like dad must have whipped everyone that walked down the school hallway. But to a man, they all said the same thing. “I deserved it. Mr. Taylor was fair”. “Fair”. It’s a good description. It’s a good word. And it fits a good man.