FATHER'S DAY

FATHER’S DAY

I don’t really know whether it’s supposed to be Father’s Day or Fathers’ Day, but since I am being personal, I’ll call it Father’s Day. I remember September 17, 1969. I remember March 30, 1972. I remember June 9, 1977. Boy, do I remember those days. They are three of the most important and exciting days of my life. Those are the days I became a father. Like the old time television program, my children are “My Three Sons.”

I had to buy a new shirt after each one of those days because I had popped the buttons totally off the ones I wore on those days. If you happened to be standing beside me outside the nursery at York Hospital on those days, I apologize to you. You see, I felt sorry for you. Your child may have looked good, but not nearly as good as my son did. In fact, I still feel sorry for you because as great as your children may be, my sons are still the best.

Our oldest son, Tim, tested our patience. The due date we were given was August 20, and Tim wasn’t born until September 17. I was so ready to jump out of bed, grab the suitcase, get Norma in the car, and drive to the hospital for the first two weeks after August 20 that I barely slept. We joked about having the baby on Labor Day, but that didn’t happen. (I said “the baby” because in 1969 we didn’t know whether “the baby” would be a girl or a boy.) I had just started a new job at Penn State University, York Campus, and was conducting orientation sessions for new students and their parents each day. Everyone was prepared to take over for me and continue the program when I had to leave for the hospital. Well, the orientation sessions were over by the time Tim was born. People were beginning to ask if we really were going to have a baby. My desire for the baby to be born was not quite as urgent as my wife’s.

Finally, the big day came, and our convenience store (7-11) son was born. We left for the hospital at seven AM, and Tim was born at eleven AM.(7-11) He may have waited a number of days to be born, but when he decided it was time, it was time. He weighed seven pounds, eleven ounces,(7-11) and he really was the best looking baby in the nursery, honest. The joy and responsibility of parenthood had begun.

Brian, our second-born son, got to go camping and traveling before he was born. Even before we officially knew we were expecting our second child, we went on a camping trip to Glacier National Park, Olympic National Park, and Mount Rainier National Park. During the trip we were walking across a snow field and Norma slipped and fell and began to slide down the mountain. Fortunately Wayne Foulk and I were below her and caught her on the way down. Maybe that early experience had some influence on Brian, because he and his family enjoy traveling on vacation. Hawaii has become a favorite place for them.

It was fun calling my parents and Norma’s parents to tell them they had a red-headed grandson. And, again, I felt sorry for the other fathers outside the nursery in York Hospital. There was no doubt that Brain was the best-looking baby of the group, honest.

The evening Brian was born, we had been shopping and Norma seemed to be walking differently. Norma was thinking that our baby might be born that evening. On our way home, we passed the neighbor we expected to watch Tim while we went to the hospital for the birth. They were going the other way. We weren’t home long before Norma told me it was time to go to the hospital. Since our primary baby sitter for the evening was gone, we went to backup. We asked another neighbor to stay with Tim. That was fine except that the neighbor kept us standing in the foyer of our house talking for a while before we left. We finally had to say we had to leave. It was good we did because Brian didn’t wait around long once he decided to be born. We left the house about 7:00 PM, and Brian was born at 9:37 PM.

We had been working toward moving from Red Lion to Tucson to open up Saguaro Potato Chip Company when Jason was born. He was born just five weeks before our move to Tucson. Again, I felt sorry for the other dads at York Hospital. You see, Jason was the best-looking baby in the nursery, honest. Norma’s sister, Dorla was going to join us at the hospital for this birth. On the morning that Jason was born, Norma suggested we call Dorla and ask her to come to our house because our baby was probably going to come that day. We waited a while for Norma’s sister to show up, but things began to move along rather quickly, so we thought we had better go to the hospital and leave a note for Dorla to meet us there.

On the way to the hospital I saw a car that had just wrecked by the side of the road. It was Dorla’s car. She had lost control on a wet road and had gone into the ditch. The windshield had shattered, and Dorla had numerous small cuts on her face and arms. Needless to say, this upset both Norma and me. Dorla walked over to our car, said she was okay, and that she would see us in the hospital later. Because of this, the delivery for Jason was longer than either of the other two.

The first several weeks of Jason’s life we were packing up for the move and cleaning the house for the new owners. Everything did get done, and we proceeded with the move to Tucson. Jason got to fly earlier than either of his brothers. He, along with his mother, and his brother, Brain, flew to Tucson while Tim and I drove a potato chip delivery van.

Once we moved to Tucson, we went about the business of opening Saguaro Potato Chips. Tim and Brian both helped out in the plant with packaging, sweeping the floors and helping us eat the broken chips that we couldn’t sell. Jason spent time in a Gerry on his mother’s back while she was packing potato chips or sleeping in the playpen. He later helped us by sampling the freshly cooked chips as often as could grab (or sneak) some.

Each of our sons has grown in his own unique way. I’m pleased to say that each one has a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Each one is also successful in his chosen field, Nuclear Engineering, Systems Engineering, and Intelligence Analysis. Each one is also a father, and I can now more easily share the experience and joy of being a father with them. Thank you, guys, for making every day a celebration of Father’s Day. There is an old gospel song that asks the question, “Will There Be Any Stars In my Crown?” My answer, “Yes, three!”