“It is to one’s honor to avoid strife,
But every fool is quick to quarrel”
~Pro. 20:3

“Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you,
Today you will be with me in paradise”
Luke 23:43

Today is a bittersweet day for me. I have always loved October and all it brings. The leaves are changing into brilliant colors of gold, orange, red and brown. The weather is going from the hot days and warm nights of summer to the cold nights, crisp mornings and cool days of autumn. We’re starting to get more rain and fog forms on most nights. The low hanging ‘spooky fog’ that brings forth thoughts of ghosts and goblins on Halloween saying, “Trick or Treat”. Hunting season starts on the first weekend of October…

Then there is the parade of family birthdays that, for our family, seem clustered in Autumn and Winter and they start in October. My own birthday starts the parade, celebrating my birth which Dad always believed was a gift, sent to relieve the pain felt by the loss of my Grandpa Sturman 9 months before. Next up (at least until Kirsten joined the clan) was Dad. He was born on 20OCT41 and would be 84 today. So, as I think about today, my thoughts invariably turn to my dad and everything he taught me or had done for me.

First off, and to me most importantly, my dad taught us about faith. He taught me about God and how to pray. Dad would get us up on Sunday mornings, make sure we were dressed in our best and take us to church. When I was little, he and mom were active in Royal Rangers and often went on campouts with them. I remember at one of them, my dad dressing up in his mountain man attire and showing them how to load a muzzle loading rifle. I also remember the Pinewood Derby races and the trophies my brother won.

I also remember dad talking about the bible and reading to us on Christmas. I remember my dad reading about the crucifixion and even that his favorite verse was from the story of the Robber mocking Christ saying, “save yourself and us, too.” The other robber rebuked the first one saying that they had justly deserved their punishment, but that Jesus was innocent. He then said to Jesus to “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Dad’s favorite verse was. “Jesus answered him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

Dad taught me so much, it would be impossible to remember it all. I remember the first summer we went to Yellowstone. It was there, on the shore of Yellowstone Lake, that he taught me to fish. I had this glow in the dark, green fishing pole with a ZebCo jet reel on it. Dad patiently explained to me how to cast then would try to get a cast or two in and hook one himself…Only to have to put down his pole, come over to where I was and either untangle the mess I had made or, more likely, clean the sand out of my reel.

Yellowstone…That magnificent wonder. We went there every year for 8 summers. It was, quite literally, my dad’s favorite place in God’s Creation. I saw most of the wonders of that beautiful place from my dad’s strong and tireless shoulders.

Every hike, every geyser basin, even halfway up Mount Washburne, I saw it all from atop my dad’s shoulders. You see that first trip? I was only 4 years old so… I also remember seemingly interminable rides in the back of his old Chevy Blazer as we explored the park.

From our “Base Camp” at Fishing Bridge, we’d explore the natural wonders of the park, visit Cody, Wyoming on Independence Day or go to Jackson Hole.

Here at home, Dad taught me to water ski. That endeavor was not entirely successful…at least at first. You see, I was seven that first time he tried to teach me. With all the hype and preparation, no one told me that if I fell, to let go of the damned rope.

“Hit it,” I yelled. Then I was up for…1/10 of a second before going down…only to be sucked under by the effects of water flowing over a semi-buoyant object. After what seemed to be an eternity, the boat stopped, and our friend Jim Lockard pulled me in… Okay, so I climbed his arm like a cat up a tree.

Dad tried to explain what happened and did his best to encourage me to try again. Alas, it would be another 5 years and dad modifying a pair of skis to get me to try again. At least that time was successful.

Dad taught me to hunt. While at the time, I did so under protest. Later, however, when I was 16, dad gave me my first hunting rifle for Christmas. I loved that gun and wish I still had it. I should mention that dad also taught me to shoot at 8 years old. When I got that first rifle, that was when I got serious about hunting and shooting.

Dad was a big believer in “you eat what you kill” and that a responsible hunter owes it to the animal to kill it as quickly and as cleanly as possible. You never make them suffer. So, I practiced as often as I could. I got to the point where I could take an old AOL CD, a clay pigeon and set the pigeon behind the CD. I would then shoot the clay without touching the CD at a range of >100 yards.

Dad also taught us boys how to work on the Log Truck. Both my brother and I did duty as Lube Techs and as mechanics for Dad. When the truck needed work, we did as much as we could from home. Later, when I started driving, dad taught me how to work on my own cars.

When I started training as an EMT, my mom and dad both helped me prepare for tests and study. It was dad that helped me work through the toughest call of my life. It was right after I was issued my pager with the Fire Department and the first major traffic accident call I had responded to. A young boy had been hit by a car and didn’t make it.

In my sorrow at a patient dying at such a young age, dad got out of bed and spoke to me at 2330 (he usually got up for work around 0300 so this was a big deal). Dad looked at me and said, “It hurts, don’t it, Kid?”

I said, “Of course it hurts, he was just a little kid!”

Dad looked at me in the eye and said, “I know it hurts, son. But it’s better that this happens now, at the beginning of your career, than 10 years down the line when you have so much invested in it. You have to ask yourself, now, can I still do this? Only you can answer that, kid.”

He then gave me a hug and told me he was proud of me before returning to bed. It took me a couple of days to work through my emotions, during which time, I spoke with a couple of other fire fighter/EMT’s and our Fire Chief but in the end, I decided that I would be able to continue, and I did for another 5 years.

When Melissa and I started Dating, Dad fell in love with his soon to be daughter-in-law. He had found someone who shared his love of Gardening, was an easy target for some of his playful jokes, and someone who would be another daughter to him. He then set to make sure that I knew how to be a good husband and father.

If Melissa and I had a fight, it was dad who would take me aside and calmly, though lovingly, explain that I was being a jerk and needed to look at things from a different perspective. Often, when Mel and I had a quarrel, mom and dad would defend her and dad would patiently explain precisely why I was in the wrong and this probably saved our relationship more than once.

Dad is the reason I fell in love with Radio. First with Citizen’s Band and later Amateur Radio. It was because of him that I got my Ham Radio license and many of the radios I use, I got from Dad. Dad also got Mom, Melissa and my brother into Ham Radio.

Later, after Dad had retired, I got to spend a lot more time with him. Whether it was camping at Crescent Lake (or fishing at Odell) or hanging out over supper at my sister’s house, we enjoyed spending time together. Much of that time, however, was often spent repairing his computer. For some reason, dad couldn’t quite grasp the concept of patience.

Dad would buy some new toy or shiny for his computer and call me up to install it. I would say, “Sure, Dad, I’ll come over tomorrow after work.” When I arrived, usually before breakfast, the computer would be in pieces, and my dad would be cussing a storm. It would then be my job to put the computer back together, fix the problem and somehow, often, through witchcraft, make it work again.

I could go on at length about all I have learned from my dad or what he has done for me. So much so that I could literally fill several books like this one with the wisdom he had imparted to me, or the gifts I received or some other anecdote about the example he set before me.

Dad was often the voice of reason for me when I wanted to go off half-cocked. See, I tended to take after my mom with my volcanic temper. If I got mad about something, dad would look at me and ask, “Why?” Many times, my dad would diffuse my explosive nature simply by making me think. These days, I tend to be more like dad.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my dad. As much as I miss him though, he is with Almighty God now, and no longer in pain.

So, as I think about today, I celebrate the man who God blessed me with as a father. I was so very lucky to have him and mom as parents. They were our role models as a married couple, but Dad was my role model for what a husband and a father should be.

Happy Birthday, Dad.
I love you, and miss you so very much.