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TRIBUTE TO MY DAD
By,
Norma Liles
How I'd love to see
my Dad just one more time and to tell him how special he was to me. He
was one of a kind, working so hard to provide for his wife, my Mother, my
siblings and myself. He loved those days of steam engine runs and that
was always the subject with him and his friends. I
can see him now coming in the back door of our home in bib overalls and a
railroad cap. He was so proud of what he did (he came from very humble
beginnings) and was always willing to work longer than we thought necessary. No way was his day ended when he returned home every
other night.
At the time that I refer to, he was working on what was known as the Work
Train. He would leave early one morning for their arranged destination. He would spend the night on the caboose, cook his own
food (some he brought from home) and sleep there being ready to work back home
the next day. He was too thrifty to spend the money
on a room...in his estimation, he thought his family
might be in need of the money that he did not part with easily. When he
arrived home, he could always find odd jobs that needed attention such as painting
the house, the inside walls of our home, tending to his garden, necessary
repairs & etc. He was very handy
with most needed tasks and never shirked any duties which made our house a
home. He lost his Mother at a young age and never
had the warmth of a loving family so his family was of double importance to
him. He kept a good supply of wood/coal available
for the space heaters with which we heated our home. He always tended
the fires when he was able to be home. He made sure that Mother always
had ample supplies of those things on hand and made sure that we took it as
our responsibility to follow through when he was absent. As
time went on, he had a furnace installed for heating but he literally dug a
place from a closet in the dining room into the bowels of the earth to make
an extra room to accommodate the furnace as well as building inside steps to
the furnace room from the said closet. Oh, how he loved to eat my
Mother's cooking but did not suffer the effect of weight gain as he worked off
whatever he ate. He, especially, loved my Mother's
cornbread and used the leftovers later in the evening dipped in buttermilk.
My father was a plain man and was so elated when he took the test to become a
conductor and obtained that title. He was only a part-time
conductor but this was a big feather in his cap. He
was a true self-made man! During W.W.II, he was a
brakeman on Second 16 passenger train and his uniform spoke loudly of his
loved accomplishments. Aside from his family, the
railroad was his life. Strange that he had asked his father to sign for
him to go to work for the RR at a too young age and his father said they were
too dangerous. I guess grandpa knew what he was
talking about because that is what took my dear father's life. He died doing what he loved doing while here on this
earth.
He was a difficult person to let go of as he was so very special...very kind
and loving but DEMANDED respect. We never contested
his demands. We knew this was just the way Dad was
and there was no question about it. He was a plain
man but a very caring down-to-earth man who loved our Lord first and his
family and then his job/career. I well remember
taking a trip to El Paso,
TX with him, my Mother and my
younger sister by what else, by train. We did not
see much of him enroute to TX. as
he sat with the brakemen of whatever line we were on......discussing the ways
of the railroad.
I have only touched the tip of the iceberg in paying tribute to ONE OF A KIND
that my father was. We lost the backbone of our
family when in April 1949 he was crushed beneath the boxcar of a train. As far as we know, he never knew what hit him. He
was sitting on top of the boxcar, waiting to switch approx. 3 miles down the
track when this happened. The engineer was a close
friend of his, saw him sitting there, a puff of smoke went up...when the air
cleared. our Dad was gone.
I was a very immature 19 year old who was not aware of worldly ways. As if this were not enough, my Mother was losing her
vision. I felt like the carpet had been pulled out
from under my feet. Daddy was killed on a Good
Friday and I was scheduled to be baptized as a new Christian on Easter
Sunday, but my Father's body was at the funeral home.
Sad was his passing but his memories live on. I was
baptized the following month of June. Hopefully, this tribute will in
some way show what kind of a special person/man that once walked this earth
and left such an imprint. He is still sadly missed
but I know without a doubt that he, along with my Mother, are enjoying
Heaven's rewards with Our Dear Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.
I have said and continue to say that when my father was born, the mold was
broken. I am so proud to have had the pleasure of
being able to say that I am his daughter.
In Grateful thanks I offer this tribute to a Man of Men.
In Loving Memory of Ollie Hoop
Norma Liles ©
4/15/01
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