Dad

I’ve been thinking about my dad, today.

Dad and me with our 1978 land yachts in 1984, 8 months before he died.  I had bought mine used in Oklahoma City.  And when he visited me there, he loved it so much, he traded in his brand spanking new ‘84 Chrysler even up for his 6 yr old burgundy Toronado.  He hated that Chrysler, but it was the biggest one he could find that year and was still too small for his long legs.  Also, according to his definition, it was not a full size car.  Apparently it needed to be 18’ long and weigh in excess of 4,500 lbs in order to be considered full sized…  It had to be a 1978 Toro, because 1978 was the last year they were “full sized.”

My favorite story about my dad was that he used to call my great great grandfather,  the stupidest man who ever lived.

Because he came to this country from Germany as a master cabinet maker.  He arrived by boat in Chicago during its boom years.  A master cabinet maker could have made a fortune.

But instead, he bought a wagon and two oxen and traveled North into Wisconsin at a rate of 12 miles per day, through 250 miles of some of the best farmland in the world.  Think of it.  At 12 miles per day, you have plenty of time to evaluate the land you’re traveling through.

Arriving in Wittenberg WI, his destination. Because of course, he was Lutheran and we come from a long line of Lutheran Pastors. Dating back to the very first Lutheran pastor Luther ordained.  He had found his paradise. He promptly bought 40 acres of rock and swamp.  Three miles from the church.

4 generations later, my dad as a child was still picking rocks from those 26 acres of actual tillable land out of what by then had been increased to 120 acres.  In order to acquire enough tillable acres to eke an existence from them.  Yep, we had rock fences.  4’ high and about 6’ wide.  Suffice it to say, he couldn't wait to get away from the farm...

Yeah he was kinda pissy about it.  Because the rock fields literally started about 20 miles south.  He'd say, “I'd have gotten here, looked around, turned back south and kept going until I found a place I could buy without the rocks.  Two more days of travel back south in that wagon would have saved 4 generations of rock picking...” LOL

Much Love.