This Sunday being Fathers day, I was reflecting how much I miss my father. He went home to the Lord October 29th 2001. We had a very up and down relationship most of the time, but he instilled in me great value, discipline, and a spirit of never letting anything defeat you.
My oldest son gave me a copy of a documentary "Riding the Rails" which tells the unforgettable story of the 250,000 teenagers who left their homes and hopped freight trains during the great depression. Among this number was a young deaf boy of thirteen, My Dad.
My father was beaten by his step father and ear drums broken. He fled home at the age of thirteen looking for work. He told of the story of living in Hobo campd ( jungles they were called). Incrediable storys of his survival. He returned to Arkansas and married my mother. She was 15 he was 18. They picked cotton around Arkansas, Southern Missouri and Tennessee ( around memphis). They moved to St. Louis when I was a small child and he got a job in a bakery which he did for the ramiander of his life. He raised 7 children, provided for us all. Served God all his life and was as faithful member as one could be in the cogop until his death.
Dispite our run in. I so dearly mis him. I could never just pick up the phone and call him and talk to him, because of the deafness. so if your father is alive and he can hear you talk, no matter what situations may be there..Call Him Sunday and tell him how proud you are that he is your Dad.
I really wish I could.
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