Cooters A1 Toewing: Fathers day remembering a true patriot, my Dad

So overnight I was in pain, no Goody’s, Wal-Mart of course closed, and I kept having strange dreams.

I don’t always give any attention to dreams, some are of course premonitions , but most are just thoughts that manifest themselves stronger when we’re asleep.

So finally I get up, at 11:00 and go to the computer.

Two of my kids my daughter and my son, sent Happy Fathers Day, two didn’t but so it goes.

So taking a drive last night I looked over our old house on Spurlock in Layton, and started thinking about my own Father.

Oh I always gave total respect to my Dad. I remember the off handed things like taking a military helicopter to land in a canyon one year while he was supposed to be on TDY, to give me a small transistor radio for my birthday, or the many things that if SECNAV or THE USAF knew about it, would have made my Dad’s career take a nose dive. The many learning efforts, gifts and all my Dad made sure that I was allowed to explore would make most young people pee with envy.

Like that one science fair when I was in 6th grade, of delivering to me a working Lunar Module for display at my exhibit , when I was building one out of freezer boxes. The risks of getting the simulator was one thing, having a USAF truck and two Airmen deliver it , off base to a civilian grade school was another.

When Dad finally retired from military service he did so as one of a very few 4 star Generals in the military both USMC/USAF, under joint commands. We moved to Idaho. Life for me changed and I was not really one that was inline with assimilation with the slow , laid back, take your time rural lifestyle.

When some of the so called genius’ in our area thought I needed to be studied and abused me, it was my Dad that went into action. When those in Twin Falls refused to listen to reason, Dad had no problem in going to some people higher in that food chain, and making sure the lower tadpoles paid attention.

My Dad was one of being thrifty to a fault. Although it might count for the small empire we had. It was my Dad that partnered with Jay Call to form Flying J, it was my Dad that donated millions of dollars to the Hazzard Fire Department to construct a new firehouse, and establish a quick response unit, mainly because I was interested in that, then. It was my Dad that introduced me to the world of flight, and it was my Dad that even though the USMC denied me entry, because of a small physical condition, Dad contacted some of his friends in places I can’t talk about, but I was accepted rather promptly.

Sadly these days, I reflect on all the good things, and a few of the bad ones, and I’m sad to say much of the foundation was squandered by my Cousin Bud , to fill his greedy pocket, yet we keep getting told there is financial recovery coming, by the time I see it, most of it will be eaten up by attorneys fees.

These days, my Dad rests in the cemetery in Grace Idaho, and I’m sure without a doubt, my Dad is standing at attention with his rifle, in Marine Blues, at Gods gates.

My dad, a real Patriot.

TTYL