He was a truck driver most of his life. After he and mom got married he drove a car carrier, hauling cars out of Detroit Michigan. He was away from home most of the week. He met the Lord one night in a motel room, where he found a Gideon Bible. He went home and shared his experience with mom. She started searching the scriptures, she wanted the same thing dad had.
One day, after several unsuccessful attempts to quit smoking, he threw his pack of cigarettes out the window and told the Lord, "if you want me to quit you are going to need to take away my desire for these things." The Lord took the desire away!
In 1956 he was put in the ministry.
Our family in 1962
I don't remember what events led to him wanting to be a farmer. He quit trucking and worked with his brothers on their dairy farms for awhile, but it didn't last long. One night he saw a bright light in the corner of his room and heard a voice tell him he was going to get three job offers. He was supposed to take the third offer. The third offer was overseeing a farm in the mountains of West Virginia!
I remember when he moved our family from PA to the wilds of West Virginia, to me it was very wild!. I was 5, I was sure there was an Indian behind every tree! I blamed the separation from my maternal grandmother against West Virginia till the day Dad moved us back to PA, but it was too late, she had passed away too soon! It wasn't my Dad's fault, it was West Virginia's fault, and I carried a grudge against West Virginia into my adulthood.
When we went to look at the farm that Dad was going to oversee. The house was filled with gypsies. I had never seen a gypsy before but I was both fascinated and terrified. They were beautiful and had the darlingest babies. I was sure they were china ladies, I told my mother that "china closet ladies have china closet babies".
It was here that Dad first became my hero! I was standing on the steps of the back porch watching Mom do laundry. She was using a wringer washer and I was fascinated by the rollers going around, completely oblivious to what was going on behind me. My three yr old brother was on the top step, holding a fishing rod over my head. And at the end of the line was a hook!! At just the right moment, I turned my head when he swung the line and the hook sailed right up my nose! I started screaming, and Mom started yelling for Dad. He and the girls were out in a field on the side of the mountain. He heard Mom calling him and came in, but in the meantime I was hysterical, I was sure I was going to die. Mom assured me I wouldn't die but the Doctor might have to cut my nose open to get the hook out. That was the wrong thing to tell me!! Dad soon appeared, calmed everybody down, took hold of the hook, pushed it up a little and brought it right out! I still had my nose!! After that, I knew my Dad could do anything!
We lived in West Virginia about three years, then moved to Virginia, where Dad worked at Va. Beef Corporation. One of his chores was feeding the cows in the huge feedlots. It was my job every evening after school to ride along with him to open the feedlot gates.
We lived fairly close to Washington DC, We did a lot of sightseeing around the area. Dad also did a lot of mission work in the city. One night we were visiting the Rescue Mission, another man was preaching. A drunk man got upset. he started up the aisle yelling, flashing a knife, threatening the preacher. Dad was sitting by the aisle, so he just stood up and walked out in front of the man. The man stopped, looked around Dad at the preacher and continued to threaten the preacher,. but didn't come any farther, Some men subdued him and took him outside. It shook the preacher up so bad he closed the service. Mom asked Dad later what he was planning to do if the man came closer, and Dad answered, "I don't know, the Lord told me to stand up and I did!" After we moved back to PA, Dad continued to make the trip to Washington DC to preach at the mission every 3rd Sunday evening.
When we moved back to PA, Dad went back to driving truck. We lived beside the PA Turnpike. Dad couldn't bring his truck to the house since the turnpike underpass wasn't high enough to get his trailer through. He would let it parked out the road at the neighbors. Dad usually left about 3 or 4 in the morning. Sometimes he would let his truck run, then before he left he would walk around it, checking tires, etc. One morning as he was walking around the trailer, he met a fellow just crawling out from underneath it. It scared Dad so bad, what if he hadn't walked around the truck that morning? Dad ended up taking the guy with him that day. Dad loved picking up hitchhikers, it was his opportunity to tell about Jesus.
When Dad was preaching, he would put his all into it. When he got wound up, there were times his false teeth would fly out. I had seen times that he caught them before they left his mouth, and there were times he caught them on their way through the air, he would stuff them back in and continue preaching where he left off! He and Mom traveled several times to Ballards Valley, Jamaica to help in the mission there. He was preaching at an outdoor service there when his teeth hit the dirt. Mom sat there spellbound wondering what he was going to do. It wasn't the most sanitary of places. Dad bent down picked up his teeth wiped them off a bit and put them back in his mouth. He never suffered any ill effects from that experience.
Another time he was preaching at a mission in Harrisburg PA. After the service two Hispanic boys came up to him talking in Spanish. Somehow through others standing around, they were able to figure out that the boys had heard the sermon in Spanish. I always thought this must have been how it would have felt in Acts where the Holy Ghost fell on the disciples and the Jews from all regions heard the Gospel message in their own tongue. Its a message that is still going out to the uttermost parts of the earth.
In August 2005, Mom was in the hospital, she was diagnosed with infection in her blood. We were very worried she wasn't going to live. Dad had been invited to preach at a new congregation in New York that weekend. We all thought he would cancel his trip since Mom was so ill. He went to New York anyway and we were all upset with him. I remember him saying "The Lords work comes first" Mom recovered and was discharged, and we all forgave Dad for going away. Less then two short weeks later, on August 18th, Dad told Mom he wasn't feeling well and was going to lay down. Mom didn't like the way he was acting so she called the ambulance. He didn't need the ambulance, He went to meet his Redeemer, the One who led him all the days of his life!
One of Dad's favorite songs was
Let's talk about Jesus,
The King of Kings is He,
The Lord of Lord's supreme,
Throughout eternity,
The great I Am, the Way
The Truth, the Life, the Door,
Lets talk about Jesus more and more..
Isn't he wonderful, wonderful, wonderful,
Isn't Jesus my Lord wonderful,
Eyes have seen ears have heard,
It's recorded in God's word,
Isn't Jesus my Lord Wonderful.
