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Tell me a story about your dad. ( Father's Day Thread )

geetar

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I'll start. I grew up raising cattle with my dad and I remember once we had to haul some cows to the auction and his truck was in the shop. He borrowed a truck from his brother to pull the livestock trailer. We got the cows loaded, closed the gate, and were about to head to town with them when my dad realized the state inspection sticker on the window of the borrowed truck was out of date. Not wanting to get a ticket if we happened to get stopped he disappeared into the shop and came back with a paint stir stick. I then watched him go find a fresh pile of cow 💩 and scoop it up and throw it on various places on the windshield as if it had got thrown up by another trucks tire. He then proceeded to specifically apply it over the out of date inspection sticker till it was no longer visible. Then he looks at me and says " I doubt the state trooper will wipe that off to check it " and we went to town and back with no trouble. A simple yet funny story and I thought about it yesterday and realized I owe my common sense cowboy logic and ability to handle unforeseen situations to my dad. We haven't always had the greatest relationship but I'm grateful for memories like this one and all the things he taught me.
 
My dad was the real person John Wayne portrayed in movies. Born on a homestead in eastern Montana in 1910, he fit in all the wrong times to grow up.

8th grade, one room school educated, he spent the prime of his life trying to scratch out a living in an economic disaster of the depression.

With the depression over, he got drafted in February, 1942 and spent the war in the Philippines fighting a people he had never met in a land he never heard of.

Discharged in November 1945, he came back and o Montana to carry on with his life. Without aid of government programs he got a job with the Milwaukee Railroad, married in 1949 and started out with the family he couldn’t afford during the depression.

At 47 years of age, he was hit by a boxcar loaded with peas, while working on the tracks and was lucky he wasn’t killed. Not ever being able to regain his normal physical activities, he got a tiny settlement from the railroad and tried to do odd jobs that his crippled condition would allow. Thank goodness my mother had a Master’s Degree and could teach at the university so we weren’t in poverty.

I never heard him complain, although he did deal with a lot of pain for the rest of his life. He taught me to shoot and how to handle horses, work harder than was necessary and was a great example of what a husband, man, father, and grandfather should be.

He died at the age of 94, always true to his character and I wish the world had more men like him around today.

I won’t be wronged, I won’t be insulted, I won’t be laid a hand on. I don’t do these things to other people and require the same from them…




grandpa stovall the cowboy 2_Original.jpeg
 
My dad wasn’t much of a hunter but would go out on occasion. Deer were actually pretty scarce in these parts then. One year before I was old enough we went to the milk river breaks to look for a mule deer. You could only shoot bucks back then. Dad was carrying an old 30/30. We had hiked around most of the morning and finally jumped what I thought was a huge buck. He came out close and started up a coulee bank right above us. Maybe 30 yards. Dad was a great shot and he pulled up on that buck, cocked the hammer and click! Dad had not put one in the chamber. I yelled “Fudge” only I didn’t say fudge. I thought I would be in big trouble but Dad just kinda ignored it. Still think about that day often especially when hunting the same country.

Cancer got him in 98 at 61. Still miss him dearly.
 
My great uncle bestowed the nick name “ awkward” upon my dad and it stuck. While athletically gifted he played professional tennis at a young age, he most certainly stumbled his way through life. Backpacking with dad was most always a disaster. Flooded tents, heavy packs, under cooked food, etc, he and the great outdoors didn’t mix well. After grandpa set down his rifle he did try and step up to full fill that role but I’d rank those hunts as the worst. Not only because an unfilled tag but the ensuing drama and unnecessary hardship caused by unpreparedness. The details are hilarious in retrospect but ultimately turned me away from big game hunting. He was just to much a city boy.

Over a joint he empathetically said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep up with you in hunting and backpacking”. I thought about it for a minute and said, “ well we still fish so that’s all that matters” !
Happy early Father’s Day Awkward
 
Dad was a WWII hero and an eng., a builder.
Hell of a fisherman.

Went to Kingspoint Merchant Marine Academy's 1st class,1943. Was a midshipman on the Emily Blunt in 1939 and it was the 1st US flagged ship sunk by a U boat.
Was sunk again in the Med after Africa campaign, saved 14 crew & the flag.
Skippered a Victory ship on D-day and later served in the Pacific campaign.

I held the tape on many remodels starting at 2yo with him.
 
My dad was the real person John Wayne portrayed in movies. Born on a homestead in eastern Montana in 1910, he fit in all the wrong times to grow up.

8th grade, one room school educated, he spent the prime of his life trying to scratch out a living in an economic disaster of the depression.

With the depression over, he got drafted in February, 1942 and spent the war in the Philippines fighting a people he had never met in a land he never heard of.

Discharged in November 1945, he came back and o Montana to carry on with his life. Without aid of government programs he got a job with the Milwaukee Railroad, married in 1949 and started out with the family he couldn’t afford during the depression.

At 47 years of age, he was hit by a boxcar loaded with peas, while working on the tracks and was lucky he wasn’t killed. Not ever being able to regain his normal physical activities, he got a tiny settlement from the railroad and tried to do odd jobs that his crippled condition would allow. Thank goodness my mother had a Master’s Degree and could teach at the university so we weren’t in poverty.

I never heard him complain, although he did deal with a lot of pain for the rest of his life. He taught me to shoot and how to handle horses, work harder than was necessary and was a great example of what a husband, man, father, and grandfather should be.

He died at the age of 94, always true to his character and I wish the world had more men like him around today.

I won’t be wronged, I won’t be insulted, I won’t be laid a hand on. I don’t do these things to other people and require the same from them…




View attachment 329840
Thanks for sharing. Sounds like a great man to look up to.
 
My dad was a world war II vet. He was one of the happiest people I've ever known.
He lived a happy life and passed at the age of 96.
The thing I remember most about him was how proud he was of all his children
and how encouraging he was.

He would often wait and let me figure things out.
He would always say "Now your cooking with gas!"
I think that saying was because he grew up in coal country and conversion
to natural gas for cooking and heating was a big deal.
 
I would go with dad every once in a while on a job. Get in the car and drive to Frisco or San Diego...just dad & me.
One job was an insurance actuarial and he would inspect ships cargos. We'd go out on the pilot boat and climb the ladder to the bridge. And the skipper would have me steer the ship...but,the pilot really had the controls.
Somewhere there is a pic of me on a box staring through the helm wheel...bluejackets watching on.

What did you do last weekend would be asked in school and I'd have a good one.
Teachers would send me home with notes about my vivid imagination.
Mom would reply with a visit...don't ever stifle a child's mind...you could hear her through the walls.
She'd send dad in his Commander's Blues to verify my tales.
 
Dad was an engineer, a masters degree from MIT. Water and waste water engineering. He got orders for Alaska in 1958, his job was to solve waste water problems being created by more permanent villages in remote Alaska. He routinely took me with him starting when I was six. Recall him taking me down to the air field at Ft. Waiwright, sticking me in a Beaver on Tundra tires. The map I had on my bedroom wall, strings, like the spokes of a wheel, covered the state. Showed where we traveled. He kept telling my mom he had to show me this, waving his arm in a big arc. It's all going to be gone some day he would say.
Had some great adventures.
 
Still here at 75. Son of a farmer, joined the military during the Vietnam War and stayed in 20 years. The day he retired he moved his family to Montana. Husband for dang near 50. Father for 40. Grandpa. Gun nut,plays harmonica, reads a book every couple days. Taught me to love the outdoors and more than I deserve. Lives 10 miles down the road. I am lucky.
 
Got stranded on a mountainside overnight in Alaska with my dad after he shot a dall ram at age 66. By the time we got the ram broken down it got too dark to be walking around safely so we plopped our butts down on the rocks shivering all night (which luckily wasn't too long) in the rain and drizzle, sitting alongside a bunch of fresh meat in grizzly country. He was sweated up and approaching hypothermia, put a garbage bag over him, gave him another hat and some dry gloves, etc. and we toughed it out till daylight.

He's 94 now and that story gets more harrowing and dangerous every time he tells it :p
 
My dad is a retired shop teacher. We spent a lot of free time in the shop. He built everything. Never bought tree stands, trailers, dog boxes, ATV racks, ect. He would just borrow one from someone and build an exact replica. He taught me how to weld, pour concrete, build houses and everything in between. We could carry guns to school when I was a kid. We had a rifle or two in the truck and went deer hunting everyday after school. After I graduated they turned the shop into a computer lab and my dad retired a few years later. It was a simpler world back then.

Funny story. When I was 13 my dad, his friend, and I all went bow hunting and rode in on my dad friend’s ATV. I killed my first archery buck that day and dad’s friends killed a doe. We also decided to bring out a ladder stand to relocate. On the way out, it was two grown men, one 13 year old kid, two deer, and one tree stand all on an old Honda 250 2x4.
 
One day on a weekend, when I was about 12 and my brother was 7, me him and my dad were hanging out all day. My dad is awesome and put in so much effort with us growing up, still does. But anyways, this particular day we had all watched Rocky III together (best Rocky btw) and we’re about to head out to my grandparents for dinner. Our house at the time had a set of stairs from the main floor to go to the landing with the front door, and another set of stairs off the landing to go to the basement. We’re all in this landing putting on shoes to set the scene. My brother was psyched after watching Rocky. He’s shadow boxing violently. Punch punch pivot, punch punch pivot. Keeps punching, keeps pivoting not aware of his surroundings, until eventually he pivots, punches, and gets my dad square in the nuts. Accident, but it was full on. My dad goes down like he was shot. He’s rolling on the ground, about to roll down the stairs to the basement. My mom and I are killing ourselves laughing, but still concerned. My brother, too young to realize, says ‘KNOCKOUT’ and keeps hitting my dad. He eventually rolls down the stairs to the basement in his agony, which brings more laughter after making sure he’s alright.

We did not end up going to my grandparents for dinner.
 
Every summer growing up, Dad would take us on one big backpacking trip. Money was tight in a family of 4 kids, but he still managed to save enough money and time to pull it off. That was my best memories growing up and why I still love the great outdoors today.

Dad passed away in his sleep two years ago at 85. Lived a good life, and went out peacefully.

1979 trip to the Popo Agie wilderness. Thanks for the memories Dad!

26220-416ae906821519d155b293b67c6924c4.jpg
 
My dad passed in1991, cancer. Every summer we spent 2 weeks camping and fishing. We went to the same lake in the west end of michigans upper peninsula. This particular day we went out early morning bass fishing. Should say my dad went fishing, I just rowed the boat and netted his haul.
 

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When I was 11 my dad decided to take up deer hunting. He had hunted birds when he was younger but never big game. He didn't want to brave the crowd during rifle season, so he bought a recurve bow and some arrows and got pretty good at shooting them. Opening weekend, he took me with him up to Willow Lake to try and find some deer. We found some but didn't even get close to getting a shot. On the second afternoon, temperatures were pushing the nineties so my dad said we should go down to the lake to cool off. There was nobody else at the lake, so my dad said we needed to go swimming. I said, "But we don't have our swim trunks." He laughed and said, "We don't need swim trunks." Stripped down naked and dove in. I think that was the first time that I realized that my dad wasn't just a stuffy old man who went off to work in a business suit every day, he was really a pretty cool dude.
 
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