Dad's Home Place

The Buttes

The Commodity House, where my Grandaddy worked during the Depression

The land records of Tripp County

There is no shortage of hay bails in Winner and Hamill, SD.

What a place dad....

His Work Ethic

My dad started working no later than age 8.  He had three or four jobs before the age of 10, before he left Winner, SD.  These jobs might have seemed small, but the money he earned was to go to his family.  So it was real work:  selling bloodworms, paper routes, selling popcorn at the movie theatre.  Here is the theatre, as it stands today.  Taken over by Rick, who loved the previous owners dearly-like parents-and wanted to see the theatre preserved.  Now he pops his own popcorn.  But back in the day, my dad would have his mom pop him some popcorn, and then he'd go out and sell it to the patrons going to the movies.  He worked from age 7 or 8 to age 75. His last "big" job was to cater the MLK, Jr memorial groundbreaking.  He was sick, and he knew it, but he worked it anyways, because it was his job.  The man had an incredible work ethic, that came from both of his parents, working through the Depression.  But as he said it, mostly his mom, "set the tone that everyone works."  I love that......everyone works.

DQ

My dad loved Dairy Queen.  Back in the day, we had one in our neighborhood and we would go there often for ice cream.  As the days wore on, he always had love for DQ.  He would regularly go, and even when he moved away, there was a DQ just 2 miles away.  Perfect.  He would be happy to know that now here in Winner, SD he has a DQ-and they deliver.  

Winner, SD

I can only say this.....I love him and miss him so much.  Being here, in his original places-Winner and Hamill, was better for me than anything else.  Population 3,138.  Home again.

The Feedbag

This picture was taken while I was driving a car, as I passed by...of all things....Old Country Buffet.  It's not that amazing, but I did just arrive in Madison, WI on my way to SD so we can let my dad's ashes go.....and while passing through, I randomly drive by one of these Old Country Buffets. He loved his buffets, and would always look forward to it by saying "You ready to put the ol' feedbag on??"  Honesty, I don't even know where that expression comes from...I've never heard anyone else say it, except for him-and it would always come with his laugh at himself.  I think it's one of the major areas I was a disappointment to him, because I was a one-plate girl.  I remember going in there with him twice, and both times-he gave me that teasing look of disappointment when I told him I was done after my one little plate.  I think it's one of the qualities he loved about one of my girlfriends, because she could hang with him when it came to food.  I wish they had their chance to do their "Old Country Buffet" thing.  I will always think of him for as long as these joints last.  Maybe one day I'll go back in, when they have a vegetarian-friendly option.

Scenes from the apartment

It was November of 2006 that we moved him into this building in order to keep him here for his treatments.  I try to avoid being nearby this place because it makes me think of him, and a particular weekend that I stayed with him just after his first treatment.  It was a horrible time, and I felt very weak in the face of this adversity he was facing.  I can still feel the inner panic I felt seeing him struggle those first days out of chemo.  There would be better days in this apartment, like friends coming by to visit, some good Zio's pizzas, and walks around the lake that was across the street.  But my mind always goes immediately to that weekend.  I was nearby on an errand that took me back over there, and it was the first time that taking a picture didn't help ease my inner-dread and negative emotions.  I almost didn't even take it, but then decided I had to.

I would do nearly anything to turn back time to that bad weekend.  Life without him is so much harder than that weekend.

Rita

He had a girlfriend, way back in the days of high school, named Rita.  So as these ice cream stores popped up all around, he would joke with my mother about them.  His ol' lady friend, and his favorite course:  dessert.  It was also that soft-serve ice cream he loved so much.  He would tease her about wanting to go in there, and they would play this pretend jealousy thing. I've seen them here and there, but had no idea there was one so close to me.  I ran into this one, and thought of him.  The only way I even ever knew he had a girlfriend named Rita was because of these dang places.   Now I just hope that one day I can bring myself inside.  

The Pool

My dad became a swimmer in his 50's.  It was after his heart attack that he decided he should get some exercise.  He started swimming, and he swam for the rest of his life.  I mean literally-up to his last days.  As he became more and more sick, he would go swimming in the community pool.  After his lung collapsed, he insisted on trying to swim again, but couldn't do his laps anymore.  But still he insisted on getting in the pool and walking for an hour at a time. I cherish those "walks" we had.  It was quiet, it was just us most of the time.  And we would talk about everything and nothing.  He would just walk back and forth because the water made it so much easier for him, since by then he was having trouble walking.  Even when he needed to be wheeled in a wheel chair because the walk from the car was too much, he still wanted to be there...everyday.

The man walked for an hour in that pool the evening just before he started his slow slip away, it was one of the last things he did.  The man swam, in whatever form he could, until literally - the very end.  I will always marvel at him.  Always.    

So I have decided to jump in and swim a little bit in a dirty raggedy community pool-see glamours lockers above.  Although I can't swim as long as he could, I just feel a little bit closer to him.  

Mr. Smiley's

So I went to the beach this weekend.  As a child, we used to go to the beach with him pretty regularly.  We would pass by what was called Mr. Smiley's.   Thanks to my girlfriend for reminding me of the name.  I could only remember this playground, and the ol' sign-which is no longer there.  Now it's a Subway and a Dunkin Donuts.  But I digress.  Back in the day, we would ALWAYS stop at this spot for a hot dog, some ice cream, and a little play on their play ground in the back.  Here is that playground, same as back in the day-it's amazing that it hasn't been improved or torn down.  I guess some things do last.  Anyway, a pleasure to see it, and have the memories of him during a long, grim drive back home....love ya daddy.  

Him beams 3

I don't know, maybe I wasn't very observant before, but I swear I see these beautiful sun beams all the damn time now.  Here's the latest, from yesterday afternoon.  Each time, they sort of stop me in my tracks and I feel a connection.  I know it's all in my head.....but at least for a few moments, my head is cleared of the darker stuff.  I really hope he is at peace.

Our Table

My friend sent me a diversity calendar...and this is the month of August's picture and story. I read them every month and just got to August yesterday and this one hit home. While describing all the room at Marnita's table, I could only think of my dad's service. The actual quote above left me feeling like I had been punched. When he left, one of his dear friends spoke of him at his service, mostly about my dad's contributions to gays and lesbians-and their loved ones-in his church. This man used a line that stays with me always and it went, he "was a caterer who did not want anyone to be missing from our table. " My dad....

Hall of Fame

Yesterday, Art Monk and Darrell Green were inducted into the Hall of Fame.  If my dad was here, it's possible he and I would have headed out to Ohio just to see it all go down.  They both were representative of the great Skins years....and the years that he and I both loved. Throughout the day yesterday, my mind went to the pre-season game my dad and I went to at RFK in 1994.  Art Monk had been traded to the NY Jets, and was on his way to a record-setting season. I remember we were sitting behind an end zone, and Art Monk scored a touchdown against us...me and my dad, and all the other fans stood and cheered.  I don't even remember who won the game.  I really just remember being there with my dad, and Art Monk's TD.