The other day, I was welding a set of scissor jack stabilizers on the trailer. I don't weld often - actually, hardly ever - but every time I drag out the helmet and rod and chipping hammer, and plug in the massive circa WWII GE welder, I think of Dad. He farmed until after I started grade school and every winter there would be a project in the shop. I suppose I was five the winter that he built a "lowboy" trailer to haul a bulldozer for a friend. I loved to put on my coveralls (just like his) and go out to chip the slag off his welds.
|Dad - 1947|
It's wasn't just welding. Over the years he taught me to work hard and to treat employees and customers with respect. I learned that you could do pretty much anything if you spent some time figuring it out before diving in. I learned service was more important than dollars. I learned that integrity was priceless. I learned God does provide.
I've had the opportunity to do a lot of things since he passed away. Things that he never had the need or opportunity to do, but I know he would have looked over my shoulder and asked why I was doing it the way I was, or commenting about how it turned out. I think he'd be pretty impressed with the college campus, or the wood strip boats, or the trailer mods, but I know all of these were possible because he taught me.