My father was 47 years older than me. No matter how old I got he was always 47 years older and so when I got to be in my teens he seemed like an old man. At that age I was confident I knew about all there was to know and as the epicenter of the universe I made no attempt to find out about his life. That remains among the most serious regrets in my life.
He was highly intelligent, articulate (he loved words), funny, and gregarious. Once, returning home late from his job as a switchman for the Union Pacific Railroad, to a waiting group of friends on a Saturday night, he entered wearing his work clothing and announced to the the group, "I shall go upstairs, submerge, emerge and return immaculate."
He ran away from home to join the army when he was 16 and his mother was so pleased to have him gone she signed the papers that allowed his enlistment. He was sent to fight in the Philippine Insurrection of 1902 and later joined the American forces sent to fight in the Boxer Rebellion. This was the start of a life as an American warrior who would go on to fight in the Mexican Border War, chasing Poncho Villa around Northern Mexico and then going to France with the American Expeditionary Forces in World War I.
His military life exposed him to adult beverages and he said he saw a billboard once that read, "Drink Canada Dry" and so he did what he could. When criticized for excessive drinking he claimed it was a birth defect diagnosed as "Syncopation" which he defined as, "irregular movement from bar to bar."
Onetime he brought a gift home for his daughter, Virginia. It was a stuffed bear with plastic eyes designed with little black centers that rolled around except the eyes had somehow been damaged with both black dots wedged together over the bear's nose. Seeing the problem, Daddy told Virginia they would name the bear, "Gladly." (He got the name from the church song, "Gladly the Cross I'd Bear."
Virginia loved Gladly.
Sadly (as opposed to Gladly) we don't get overs in this life. I should have known him better.
