My father moved to Oklahoma when he was 5 years old. He worked hard all of his life. Being the youngest child in the family, his father often sent him to his oldest siblings to work on their farm with no pay. He resented that until the day he died. He loved animals and confronted his older brother about beating his mules. His response was that if he didn't like it he would beat him too. Later in life he brought the incident back up with his brother and asked him if he thought he still could. His response was "no I recon I cant"
When the U.S. entered WW2 he stood before the draft board. The man said " I see that your a farmer. Do you want to go to war or stay on the farm?" Dad told him that he would do whatever the board decided. The man said " I think we will keep you on the farm." He plowed fields with a horse for 12 hours a day for 50 cents. Many times he had to take his pay in setting eggs. They were poor but had a lot of chickens. He ended up working at a Ammunition Dump in Sacramento during WWII. He said it was the best job he ever had. After the war he and my mother returned to Oklahoma where he resumed farming. He also worked in the oilfield as a roughneck, eventually moving up to a Pumper. I came along later in life and as a child I went to work with him every day until I started school. I followed him everywhere he went. sometimes all he had to do was drive by the well and make sure it was still running, if it wasn't we were sometimes there for hours getting it started. Mother died of cancer in 69,The bottom fell out of the oil field in the early 70's so dad took a job as a security guard at an all girls reformatory. He often said that he got a real education working there, saying I didn't know little girls talked like that and their not there for singing too loud in church.
He retired in the early 80's and I came home from The Air Force as a Single dad of a beautiful 5 year old girl. He would take her to the doughnut shop every morning before taking her to school and pick her up at the end of the day. He called her Tootie. When he passed away she was so devastated she asked me if she had to go to the funeral. I told her that she didn't have to go to my funeral when the time came. Little did I know that 21 years later she would go before me. Because of the circumstances I was unable to attend hers. When Dad died I not only lost him but I lost most of my Family over a $100 dollar plow, a shotgun and hateful words spoken to me that cant be taken back. I have no hard feelings now. If they can live with it. I can live without it.
Rest in peace Dad. You did the best you could. We will sort it out on the other side some day.
When the U.S. entered WW2 he stood before the draft board. The man said " I see that your a farmer. Do you want to go to war or stay on the farm?" Dad told him that he would do whatever the board decided. The man said " I think we will keep you on the farm." He plowed fields with a horse for 12 hours a day for 50 cents. Many times he had to take his pay in setting eggs. They were poor but had a lot of chickens. He ended up working at a Ammunition Dump in Sacramento during WWII. He said it was the best job he ever had. After the war he and my mother returned to Oklahoma where he resumed farming. He also worked in the oilfield as a roughneck, eventually moving up to a Pumper. I came along later in life and as a child I went to work with him every day until I started school. I followed him everywhere he went. sometimes all he had to do was drive by the well and make sure it was still running, if it wasn't we were sometimes there for hours getting it started. Mother died of cancer in 69,The bottom fell out of the oil field in the early 70's so dad took a job as a security guard at an all girls reformatory. He often said that he got a real education working there, saying I didn't know little girls talked like that and their not there for singing too loud in church.
He retired in the early 80's and I came home from The Air Force as a Single dad of a beautiful 5 year old girl. He would take her to the doughnut shop every morning before taking her to school and pick her up at the end of the day. He called her Tootie. When he passed away she was so devastated she asked me if she had to go to the funeral. I told her that she didn't have to go to my funeral when the time came. Little did I know that 21 years later she would go before me. Because of the circumstances I was unable to attend hers. When Dad died I not only lost him but I lost most of my Family over a $100 dollar plow, a shotgun and hateful words spoken to me that cant be taken back. I have no hard feelings now. If they can live with it. I can live without it.
Rest in peace Dad. You did the best you could. We will sort it out on the other side some day.
My father moved to Oklahoma when he was 5 years old. He worked hard all of his life. Being the youngest child in the family, his father often sent him to his oldest siblings to work on their farm with no pay. He resented that until the day he died. He loved animals and confronted his older brother about beating his mules. His response was that if he didn't like it he would beat him too. Later in life he brought the incident back up with his brother and asked him if he thought he still could. His response was "no I recon I cant"
When the U.S. entered WW2 he stood before the draft board. The man said " I see that your a farmer. Do you want to go to war or stay on the farm?" Dad told him that he would do whatever the board decided. The man said " I think we will keep you on the farm." He plowed fields with a horse for 12 hours a day for 50 cents. Many times he had to take his pay in setting eggs. They were poor but had a lot of chickens. He ended up working at a Ammunition Dump in Sacramento during WWII. He said it was the best job he ever had. After the war he and my mother returned to Oklahoma where he resumed farming. He also worked in the oilfield as a roughneck, eventually moving up to a Pumper. I came along later in life and as a child I went to work with him every day until I started school. I followed him everywhere he went. sometimes all he had to do was drive by the well and make sure it was still running, if it wasn't we were sometimes there for hours getting it started. Mother died of cancer in 69,The bottom fell out of the oil field in the early 70's so dad took a job as a security guard at an all girls reformatory. He often said that he got a real education working there, saying I didn't know little girls talked like that and their not there for singing too loud in church.
He retired in the early 80's and I came home from The Air Force as a Single dad of a beautiful 5 year old girl. He would take her to the doughnut shop every morning before taking her to school and pick her up at the end of the day. He called her Tootie. When he passed away she was so devastated she asked me if she had to go to the funeral. I told her that she didn't have to go to my funeral when the time came. Little did I know that 21 years later she would go before me. Because of the circumstances I was unable to attend hers. When Dad died I not only lost him but I lost most of my Family over a $100 dollar plow, a shotgun and hateful words spoken to me that cant be taken back. I have no hard feelings now. If they can live with it. I can live without it.
Rest in peace Dad. You did the best you could. We will sort it out on the other side some day.
When the U.S. entered WW2 he stood before the draft board. The man said " I see that your a farmer. Do you want to go to war or stay on the farm?" Dad told him that he would do whatever the board decided. The man said " I think we will keep you on the farm." He plowed fields with a horse for 12 hours a day for 50 cents. Many times he had to take his pay in setting eggs. They were poor but had a lot of chickens. He ended up working at a Ammunition Dump in Sacramento during WWII. He said it was the best job he ever had. After the war he and my mother returned to Oklahoma where he resumed farming. He also worked in the oilfield as a roughneck, eventually moving up to a Pumper. I came along later in life and as a child I went to work with him every day until I started school. I followed him everywhere he went. sometimes all he had to do was drive by the well and make sure it was still running, if it wasn't we were sometimes there for hours getting it started. Mother died of cancer in 69,The bottom fell out of the oil field in the early 70's so dad took a job as a security guard at an all girls reformatory. He often said that he got a real education working there, saying I didn't know little girls talked like that and their not there for singing too loud in church.
He retired in the early 80's and I came home from The Air Force as a Single dad of a beautiful 5 year old girl. He would take her to the doughnut shop every morning before taking her to school and pick her up at the end of the day. He called her Tootie. When he passed away she was so devastated she asked me if she had to go to the funeral. I told her that she didn't have to go to my funeral when the time came. Little did I know that 21 years later she would go before me. Because of the circumstances I was unable to attend hers. When Dad died I not only lost him but I lost most of my Family over a $100 dollar plow, a shotgun and hateful words spoken to me that cant be taken back. I have no hard feelings now. If they can live with it. I can live without it.
Rest in peace Dad. You did the best you could. We will sort it out on the other side some day.
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