Thinking Out Loud, Volume DXXIV

My dad never made it past the sixth grade, yet he was an intelligent man. I dare say he knew as much as most high school graduates of his time. Let me tell you a little about him. For quite some time in his childhood, they lived in a box car....one that sat on tracks and stayed connected with other box cars that were homes to other families. I don't remember hearing for sure just what my grandpa did for a living in those days, but I assume it was in the logging industry. When they were finished working the area they were in, a locomotive would hook up with the boxcars where the workers were living and they would transfer to their next location. Dad told me the story about one time when it was moving day, and all the adults were busy getting everything ready for the move. He said he was outside playing, knowing that it was almost time to head out, but as kids will do, he became absorbed in his game, and looked up to see the train was starting to move. He said he started screaming and running as fast as he could, but soon realized he would never make it to their car, so he sprinted to the last car on the train and was able to grab ahold and get on board. That would not have been a good situation if he hadn't made it, because the families in the cars had no way of getting the attention of the engineer. Living that kind of life didn't mix well with going to school. When he reached the sixth grade, they ended up having to move, and he had to drop out. The next year, he went back to the sixth grade, and the same thing happened again. Finally, after having to drop out a third time, he never went back. However, like I told you, my dad was a smart man. Here's why: He had several things going for him. Number one, he had an inquisitive mind. He always wanted to know how things worked, and as a result, he was a Mr. Fix It. I remember many times when a neighbor had a problem with a car, a washer, a dryer, or anything else mechanical, they would call Dad to come repair it. Secondly, he was a conversationalist. He had figured out a fact that still holds true today: Every person we talk to knows things we don't. He learned that if he would listen more than he talked, he would leave with some knowledge he didn't have when he came. Thirdly, he could read, and that was a skill he continued to cultivate for the rest of his life. I wish I knew just how many books he read. I remember when I was a kid, my parents subscribed to "Reader's Digest," and they had a bookshelf at home that held every issue of that magazine from several years. He read them cover to cover. Dad passed away in August, 1986 after a lengthy illness, but he read his Bible every day up through mid June of that year in his effort to read the Bible through in one year for the umpteenth time. July 17th of this year will be my dad's 99th birthday, so naturally the world has changed a lot since he was a boy, and the Information Age has really come into being since his death. A formal education is much more vital today than it was when he was a youth, yet if we only rely on our "schooling" to get us through, we're still missing out on a wealth of knowledge that our institutions of learning can't provide. At the time of this writing, I'm only four years shy of the age he was when he died. Even to this day, I still look to him as a role model, which means that although my graduation from college is well into my past, the learning must never stop. I will continue to read, to listen, and to inquire as long as my health allows. That's what he did, and when I grow up, I want to be like my daddy. Preston