MY DAD, MY HERO

Dad at 12 years old

    

    This picture was taken of Dad when he was 12 years old by the front porch at Uncle Man's house (Manuel Oyer). Dad lived with the Oyer family: Uncle Man, Aunt Lizzie, Elsie, Bessie, and Mary. He moved to their home when he was five years old and stayed until he and Mom were married. There, he learned to farm, bale hay, and care for livestock. He attended the East Bend Mennonite Church until he was in his teens. He left the Church after that and never returned, except for Beverly's wedding, but he never forgot what he had learned. He kept his faith to the end.

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                 

 

The farm where Dad (and the rest of us) grew up was about 6 miles north of Fisher, Illinois. The house sat about a quarter of a mile from the Sangamon River. Heavy rains in the late winter and throughout the Spring almost guaranteed that the river would overflow it's banks and flood the fields and the back yard clear up to the back of the house.

Dad loved to fish, and according to the ladies that raised him, every time the river flooded, you could find him out on this platform in the barnyard with his cane pole. I don't know how many fish he caught out there, but I do know that the floods brought MANY snakes to the yard. One of our favorite pastimes was chasing the snakes with a hoe; that is until the snakes started chasing us!

 

 

This picture was taken of Mom and Dad just a few days after they were married. Don't they make a handsome couple/!

                                                                                                                 Here is Dad with Beverly, his oldest child. His uniform is Standard Oil, where he was working at the time. He did a lot of temporary jobs in the winter when he couldn't work in the fields. And he still managed to get the cows fed and milked!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

 

 

Here are Dad and Mom with their three oldest children. Beverly is in the middle, Donald is standing by Dad, and Mom is holding me. Man, I was a chunker! The more things change, the more they stay the same.

   This is a family party at Uncle Man's house.    The group is as follows from left to right: Beverly, Dad, Joan (youngest), Donald (I think it was his birthday), Rose Zehr (she made the cake), Ryan, Mom, Rose, and me.                                    

 

  Dad and Mom had several grandchildren, but unfortunately Dad wasn't here to meet most of them. Jonathan was the only one that really got to spend a lot of time with him. Aaron, my oldest and the second grandchild, was not yet three when his grandpa passed away, so he barely new him. There was one more born that was about one year old at the time of his death. There are 10 grandchildren altogether.

My dad always wanted a large family. Although there were six kids in our family, he had wanted a dozen. I believe when the grandchildren started coming, he saw them as the children they didn't have. He was able to spend more time   with Jonathan and talked to him in a way he somehow couldn't with us. I believe he realized what he would be missing out on and wanted as much of that time as possible. It is sad that the others never got to know their grandfather. They would have loved him!

 

 

This is our last family photo. It was taken in late 1982, just a few months before Daddy passed away. It was the first time in several years that we were all together.

Family gatherings aren't quite the same since Dad left us, and now Mom as well. But I believe we will all see each other again if we have Faith enough to take us home. I can't wait to see my parents again.