Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12, (New International Version or NIV).
One hundred years ago my father was born into this world on May 3, 1924. He was the second of six boys to be born into the Parks family and he loved every one of his brothers too. My dad was a kind and gentle man, soft spoken, and a very hard worker. He loved my mother completely and he loved all three of their children and I am the youngest.
Dad had a very hard life when we compare it to today. His mother died when he was eleven years old. He told me how some of the extended family came to the house where his mother was dying and wanted to take all the children to their home so that they didn’t witness her death. In those days, most people died at home and not in a hospital like today. He refused to leave and went and hid in the barn where they couldn’t find him. Finally, his dad said to let him stay if he was that determined. After the other children had gone, he snuck out of his hiding place and went to his parent’s bedroom window and stood under it peeking in to see what was happening. One of his relatives, I think it was his grandfather, saw him and told him to come inside and he did. He was by his mother’s side when she passed away. I know that this was an extremely impactful trauma for him, but I am thankful that he was there for it gave him much comfort throughout his lifetime.
After the funeral, he remembered how his aunts all came into his home and began taking away many of the beautiful things that his mother had. They took away handmade quilts, her good dishes, her music, and other personal items. My dad thought that was a terrible thing to do. But in truth, his father fell apart. He started drinking even though it was during prohibition. He couldn’t cope with the loss of his beloved wife, and he lost his farm in the process. The relatives were not pleased with how the boys were all being neglected. In fact, they had a family meeting and decided that it would be best for the boys to be placed in Father Flanagan’s home for boys that was located in Omaha. Most of them knew Father Flanagan personally as he had been their Catholic priest at some point. His dad put his foot down and said absolutely not going to happen! So, the family told him to get his life together and start taking better care of his children.
During this time, my dad told me of many instances when he and his brothers were playing with their numerous cousins, they would go to one of the aunts’ houses where she had just made freshly baked cookies. She would give each child a cookie except for the Parks boys. She would tell them that they needed to tell their dad to straighten up and live right! This was very hurtful to my dad, and he never forgot this either. It impacted him in adult life for the good, though, as he never turned away anyone who needed a little help.
After a year or so, his dad brought home a new wife and she had a little girl. Imagine that poor girl being raised with all those boys! After my dad passed away, this girl called my mom to give her condolences. She told my mom how she always thought of my dad as the gentle giant. She said that when the other boys would be picking on her and teasing her, she would run into my dad’s arms and his big hands would wrap around her and protect her from the others. She said that he was her hero too. He was so much older than her and larger in size that she thought of him as a gentle giant! I love that!!
At age thirteen my dad finished the eighth grade and graduated. He was a good student. He loved poetry and his favorite poem was The Village Blacksmith by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He had it memorized. He also loved The Charge of The Light Brigade by Alfred Lord Tennyson. He had most of that one memorized too. I have a book of family poems that he used to read to us when we were young. It is worn with his reading it through the years. He also loved music. His mother was a classical pianist and would play duets with her brother who played the violin. Their mother was a graduate of the Boston Conservatory of Music in Boston, Massachusetts. When she passed away her brother put down his violin and never played it again. In later years my dad bought the violin and now it belongs to my granddaughters who also play the violin. I never knew that my dad loved classical music until my middle child was in college. There were foreign students at our house and asked to play the piano to practice for an upcoming recital and I said yes. One of them was playing beautiful classical music and my dad said that he had never heard any in person since his mom had died. He certainly enjoyed listening to the girl practice.
After graduating from eighth grade, he did what a lot of boys did in his era, he got full-time work rather than attending high school. He didn’t like his stepmom and so he left his part-time job at the livery stable and began his career as a harvester. He became a part of a crew that went from Oklahoma through the midwestern states to the Canadian border and then back to Oklahoma. If you have ever seen the movie Of Mice and Men you will see the type of work that my dad did. Machinery was limited and nearly everything was done by hand and manpower. After working for the harvesters for a few years, he decided to try something else and traveled to western Nebraska from his home in eastern Nebraska. He got as far as his money would take him and landed in Angora, Nebraska. A farmer who had a large operation was looking for a good strong young man to work for him and my dad was hired.
It just so happens that shortly after my mother was hired to be a mother’s helper. We don’t have such an occupation these days, but a hundred years ago mothers needed help to get all their chores done and still had time to meet their family’s needs. Her job was to help do the washing without a modern machine, hang the clothes on the clothesline to dry, no dryers then, iron because nearly all clothing was made of cotton, babysit, wash many diapers and hang them on the line, help cook the meals and wash all the dishes afterward, clean and scrub the floors, help in the garden in the summertime, help preserve the garden produce in the fall, take care of the farm animals such as chickens, ducks, and milk cows, and anything else that was needed. It was a lot of work when a mom had three or more children to tend to and so my mom, being a young woman not yet eighteen years old, it was a good job. And this is where my parents met!
Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. Psalm 127:3-5, (NIV).
A family grew and my dad was a good father. He was fair, more fair than my mom sometimes. He was always working hard to support us. He also taught us all many good things. He taught us to be honest and full of integrity. He taught us to love and appreciate nature and life. He taught us that family is important and that we need them, and they need us. He taught us to love our mother and respect her for who she was. He taught us that you don’t need a lot of money to be happy, but you do need to use what God gives you wisely. He taught us that loving Jesus is the only way to live life in the best way. He taught us to share what we had with those who needed it, whether it was our time, money, groceries, or love. He was such a good man.
A good person leaves an inheritance for their children’s children, but a sinner’s wealth is stored up for the righteous. Proverbs 13:22, (NIV).
Dad left us a little money as an inheritance. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to know we were loved. What he left us that was much more precious than money or possessions was a legacy of being the best. Be the best one to show love to the downtrodden. Be the best to share your worldly possessions. Be the best to love your family. Be the best to work hard as if you are working for Jesus. Be the best at attending church and participating. Be the best at seeing the opportunities to lend a helping hand. Be the best neighbor. But most of all, be the best parent and grandparent. Life changes so quickly. My parents buried two of their three children. They helped so many others who had lost their children to death. They knew their pain and they knew what to say and when to say it. The legacy of a lifetime is what is the most important.
I’m glad you are with Jesus now, Dad to celebrate your 100th birthday.
Until next time…Katherine
Katherine Speaks 