Today was/is my dad's birthday when he was alive. To me it's still his 'day', and I always find myself thinking about him. [ Pictures to be added later, I'm not at home now.]
When Bud was a young man growing up in Tennessee, with his mom and brothers Emerald and Selwyn, and sister Georgia, his father (my grandfather) left his mother(my grandmother). So Bud (Jamie) being the oldest son (Aunt Georgia was the oldest),found himself supporting his mother and family growing up faster than most I guess.
Bud used to work in a lumber mill working very hard, working in very labor intensive type jobs. I remember seeing pictures of him as a young guy, pretty damn good looking if you ask me. It's as though he 'worked out' all of the time in his work ;)
Buddy was a great story teller. I grew up with such wonderful stories of the crank, a big gigantic bird that preyed on little children and was always associated with kids having to walk through a dense forest and be confronted with this crank in different type situations. Or the pink and blue pills that made you invisible and you could carry big watermelons out of stores without detection. I can still picture the watermelons floating in thin air as he had described them as being seen by the folks around us. His imagination was incredible, and he was very witty and quick thinking. I was surprised a bit learning how some friends were only read to, I was so very lucky to have my dad make up stuff from his incredible imagination and it went in so many directions without boundary's.
While waiting for mom to do her shopping in the grocery store, we'd wait for her out in the car, and he would test us with our vision. He was like a hawk. He would ask us to read something very far away or test us in looking at something very far away, he could see it very clearly, his vision was tremendous.
My dad however was very superstitious. I wonder if this is something ingrained in you if you ever live in the south. When we would be stopped at a railroad crossing, he wouldn't let me count the railroad cars, telling me it was bad luck, and he was serious.
He also drove taxi in SF for 25 years, he chain smoked but quit when the surgeon general came out with the dangers of smoking. He quit cold turkey. As a kid in school, all of the Father's Day presents that the teacher would help us make were ash trays and stuff and I couldn't make those. While driving taxi, he would take me on all of the fun steep streets of San Fran and it was as though he was taking me on an amusement ride. I still remember being thrown out of my seat giggling with laughter. No seat belts back then. When I was learning how to drive, he made me have to pass 'his' test before I could drive. At the time, I hated it, but now am very happy, as I basically learned defensive driving to the max. Knowing how to pull trailers etc.
I also remember hanging out with my dad while he'd take the car in to be serviced. I would stay in the car while it was pumped up into the air so they could work under neath it. Can't do that anymore, but what fun times. I would peer out over the whole garage seeing stuff from that perspective that only I could see. In alot of ways it was like being in my tree house.
He was excellent at shooting and bow and arrow. He was expert in shooting, and he would compete with a hunting bow with others that used precision bows and he would win many competitions. I was there and he would hoist me up on his shoulders. Bud made me very proud. Bud taught me all the techniques of proper stance et all with the bow, and I got to be pretty good too. Bud also showed me how to fill bullet shells, and we would spend hours doing this. He had quite the collection of guns and rifles, but in later life he started whittling on them which was sad to see. While he was in his right mind, he did seem to lose some of his sharpness in later years. My dad was a very strong, big guy that people listened to. He was also a very honest man with integrity. A handshake of agreement actually meant something back in those days. Taking someone at their word. How I wish he were still alive to know his grandchildren, he'd be so very proud of them as well, and they him.
We lived in San Francisco for many years, where my dad worked in security of some sort patrolling the Golden Gate Bridge. I do think this was when he was in the Merchant Marines.
Later we lived on a ranch and we had horses and cattle. I loved it during my teen years and grew up loving animals. I was given the choice of helping inside with dishes and other inside chores, or to help Bud work outside fixing fence and feeding the horses, goats, cattle and chickens. It was a real working ranch in many ways. Well that was an easy choice for me. I would spend hours outside with my dad and the animals. A very special time in my life.
Buddy was in the service, I was a little girl when many of the stories related to this time were told, so don't remember alot of his war stories. I do enjoy looking through his scrap books of pictures of his medals and with him in uniform, with his buddies. He was in Korea, the Philippines and was stationed up in Alaska for a time. He was in the Navy and later in the Merchant Marines, do they exist anymore? When he was stationed in Alaska, he would cut records that he made while playing in bars passing the hat, telling his mom how he and the boys were having a great time and not to worry, and sing and play a song. I have these records and want to copy them. He wanted to join the service again after leaving the service but they said he was too old. My dad was always a strong determined person, hard on the outside, by that I mean he scared the shit out of alot of folks, me included in some ways. But he had a soft heart and was very gentle and loving to his family. I look at his journals, poems and photo albums of him with his friends and try to imagine what it was like for him.
My dad was very talented with playing the mandolin, and a few other instruments. What was sad is that we only have a few recordings of his playing during his prime, (I need to get them copied), but most of his recordings, are when he lost his hearing, and his playing really deteriorated. Bud was also very artistic. He would draw cartoon characters on duffel bags for guys in the service and did cartooning for fun. I remember how he drew a big Indian with a tomahawk in the bedroom full size coming right at you. He also loved puzzles, especially cryptoquotes, a deciphering game kind of.
I miss him dearly, but often think of him. Most of my memories with him was when I was a little girl, as he started slowing down when I was an adult. How I wish I could have enjoyed a beer with him and talked of real substance type topics.
While I have many good memories, there were also some bad ones too. I have forgiven him for those times, and have moved on. All families have this, the good with the bad, get over it, and I have.
I don't remember him ever being afraid of anything except....Spiders. Ha ha. When he was a very old guy already retired for several years, he whipped off the covers while in bed having felt/finding a spider had crawled across his legs and freaked out. For a long time after he spent telling us how big the spider was. The spider kept getting bigger with every retelling, ;) Other than that nothing scared him.
Here's to you Buddy.....I love you
Scrappleface: "Let me make this crystal clear, as crystal clear as I can make it; It's not the fault of the Iraqi's that your country has become purgatory for our bad students. I hope everyone, Sunni, Shia, and freedom-fighting insurgent alike will find it in their hearts to forgive me." John Kerry
As meaningful as seeing all of these boots were, we still need to keep focused on what's important. Not allowing these lives to be for naught.
