Dad was a hillbilly boy, raised in the hills and hollers of eastern Kentucky. He only went to 8th grade, and spent three years in fourth grade. But, some of the greatest lessons I ever learned came from an uneducated man.
Dad was the fifth child born out of eleven children, just like Mr. Kerry. By the time he was born, one of his older brothers had already succumbed to whooping cough. The sister born right after him died at age three when a pot of beans cooking on a pot-bellied stove fell on her and burned her badly. She had been sitting on her big sister's lap and they were rocking away in a rocking chair, pushing off on the stove. It was enough to rock the beans each time to the edge of the stove. It took her three days to die.
Dad valued education, though he had but little. He always said he went to college, something that I scoffed at -- until I went to Berea College in Kentucky and learned that he had been enrolled there for seven months. A few months later he married my mom.
Dad was a coal miner, a sailor at Pearl Harbor, manager of a Pepsi-Cola bottling plant, a donut maker, a maintenance worker at Westinghouse, and owned his own refrigeration/air conditioning business.
He was also an engineer. The best wheat grinder I've ever had is one he built out of two burr stones, a washing machine motor from the dump, plywood, and a long funnel.
Dad was a boy when the Battle of Blair Mountain took place in West Virginia. He was only six years old. Here is a quote from his journal:
"As well as I remember we lived there about one year or more before trouble started, the union was trying to organize the coal fields and the coal companies didn’t want that to happen and there was fighting all around, the union men were coming over Blair Mountain into Logan County and all who would not join the union were called red necks and my uncle Arthur Fitzpatrick, a big Irishman who had just gotten out of the army in 1918 and he was tough but they arrested him because marshal law had been declared and him and me started to walk to Logan about four miles away and a deputy sheriff inquired where we was going and he told him it was none of his business and he arrested him, and he handed me his big 45 army colt and he told me not to let anyone take it from me and I took it back to my aunt Etta Bee and gave it to her and they blackballed him out of Logan County and never would let him come back, it was not easy living under marshal law but we did it for about two years or more.
During the war between the union and non union there were many people killed on Blair mountain, the sheriff of Logan county and some of his deputies was killed and many coal miners went to work and never returned.
The army moved heavy artillery right by our house by mule team and we could hear the heavy artillery being fired from our home, nothing looked good at all for along time but we finally come out all together."
(When the tv special aired, I wrote to them and told them I had a first-hand account my father had written. They asked if they could use it on their site, and I gladly shared it with them."
In West Virginia, mom and my three sisters joined the LDS Church -- a brave act for a woman going against the wishes of her husband in 1948. Dad wanted nothing to do with it.
He later made a trip to Ohio for three reasons:
1. To look for better employment.
2. To ensure better education for my three sisters.
3. To scope out and make sure there was no Mormon Church.
He moved the family up during a blizzard on New Year's Day in 1950. In April, two missionaries knocked on my mom's door. The area had just been opened up.
Two years later dad was baptized. I came along three years later. He was bishop of the local congregation when I was baptized.
I was my dad's "boy". He taught me how to fish, how to hunt, and how to build things. I went along with him on service calls, where I learned something very important:
"Don't ever be afraid to take something apart to see why it's not working right. Then, put it back together the right way and trust it."
I have applied that sage advice in all areas of my life -- my family life, my genealogy research, and my own self.
It's okay to take segments of your life apart, so you can have the experience of reassembling it and making it work right.
I miss my dad. I had him longer than I had my mom. But, both made profound influences in my life. I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for them.
They taught me commitment. If you say you're going to do something, do it. Be the type of person no one ever has to worry about when you've said yes.
They taught me by example to never waver. When they joined the LDS Church, they jumped in with both feet and never looked back, never went inactive, and were faithful followers all of their lives.
They taught me to love and know God, and trust in Him. I can vividly recall my parents on their knees in gratitude, and asking Him to bless their children and grandchildren.
My two uneducated parents immersed themselves in the scriptures, and always had a book in their hands. I still struggle understanding Isaiah and Revelation, books they clearly understood.
I couldn't have asked for better parents. They did the best they could at their age to raise a squirrely little girl. And, they taught me nothing wrong.
I hope with all of my heart I have made them proud of me.
Love you, Dad...
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