A Good Man

This is a simple story about a good man…

My Dad was born in 1933 in a small town in Missouri; he was the youngest of seven children. In 1938 his family moved to Windsor, Colorado and Dad grew up there.

He left school early and moved to California to work in construction alongside his brother-n-law. Soon the Selective Service came calling and Dad was drafted into the Army as the Korean War was winding down. His active duty time was spent on a base in Fairbanks, Alaska.

One of Dad’s favorite stories from his Army days was how, during winter exercises, each soldier was assigned a buddy – if your buddy got frostbite you got court-martialed. Each soldier was issued a winter parka with a fur-lined hood and a row of snaps around the outside. If you saw your buddy’s face turning red, you were to snap your hood to his and let each other’s exhaled breath warm the skin.

Those of you that knew my Dad may remember that he had a large, and somewhat red, nose. Dad said he couldn’t remember how many times his “buddy” would yell “Reynolds, get over here! Your nose is turning red, you’re getting frostbite!” and would then snap his hood to Dad’s. Then with a devilish grin, Dad would say “I really started to worry about that guy after a while…”

Mom and Dad were married in 1956 and lived in San Diego for a brief time. Dad got a job as a lineman with the telephone company and he said it was the best job he ever had. Apparently, the poles where the new guys learned to climb were located along one of San Diego’s most popular beaches. Once they mastered climbing the poles, the newbies were told to “just stay up there and have a look around…”

Mom and Dad returned to Colorado in 1958, a few months before I was born, and they were living in Lakewood when my brother, Scott, was born in 1962.

With the exception of a couple of years, Dad spent his professional life in the dairy business working a variety of jobs from milking cows to delivery to making cottage cheese and ice cream to loading to sales. While he was in sales, many of his clients were restaurants in the Denver area and Dad got to see what went on in the kitchens. Let’s just say that there are some places in town where I still refuse to eat…

Once retired, Dad enjoyed woodworking and traveling; searching New Mexico for the best burrito. He also worked very hard to have the greenest lawn on the block, not that he was competitive or anything...

Dad could fix just about anything and he tried to pass that skill on to Scott and me. I have to admit that my brother paid much closer attention during those fixing lessons than I did…

Dad, along with Mom, created a home, a safe place where my bother and I could begin to pursue our dreams. He taught us the values of hard work and honesty, and how to treat people fairly.

He possessed a great deal of physical strength, and if you ever shook hands with Dad, you knew about his bone-crushing grip.

Along with his physical strength, Dad was strong of character…

In 1982 we had the infamous Christmas Blizzard and my wife and I were stuck in our basement apartment. Dad spent all of Christmas day digging out and then coming over to rescue us. Not so we could celebrate with Mom and him, but so we could make it to my wife’s house to celebrate with her family. That might have been the best Christmas present ever.

A few years back the local elementary school was having a Dad’s day, and everyone’s Dad, including staff, was invited to spend the day at school. None of the front office staff at that time still had their fathers, so Dad stepped in and made four young women very happy that day.

Nothing filled Dad with pride more than his four grandchildren. I often watched him steer a conversation so he could talk about his grandkids. Corey, Kaitlin, Mary and Jake - I know this is painful, as this is the first time any of you have experienced this in your young lives. Please remember that your Grandpa loved you all very, very, much.

Dad was a good man and he led a quiet, simple life. There is much to be said for that.