My dad was huger than life to me...my whole life. It wasn't until his last few years on earth that he seemed frail and small. But for my whole life he was the big guy, who could do anything and wasn't afraid of anything or anyone. I'm sure that's how it is with most daughters. But Vernon was an incredible guy.
He was a part time "stay at home" dad for many years-probably before anyone thought it was normal for dads to do that in the 1960's. For many years, he worked the graveyard or overnight shift at the state school where he started as a janitor and apprentice boiler-man. He would work the after school shift as many school janitors did; emptying trash cans, cleaning blackboards,and pushing a broom down the endless hallways of dust mopping and buffing. There was some kitchen duty, cleaning out the walk in coolers of rotten fruit and vegetables, taking inventory of supplies, and then endlessly checking that boiler...that fire eating dragon boiler. I was deathly afraid of that boiler.
There was two of those boilers that burst into flames every 20-25 minutes or so, to keep the 3 story dormitory and school nice and warm. Nights when my mom had class or something going on, my dad would take us to the school during his night shift, and as long as we didn't cause any trouble; we could be there with him. We'd happily help him with the trash, and clean the blackboards-- and maybe he would let us hang out in the wood shop room and we would play with the sawdust or go into the print shop and breathe the toxic fumes and I suppose get a little high from the ink. I loved it. Nights with dad at work were the best. Especially when he would let us play on the trampoline in the gym and get us an apple from the walk in, and a bottle of coke from the coke machine. Glass bottles, $.25 cents. But god, I hated that boiler. I wondered silently why on earth my dad would have to be the guy working in the boiler room because it was loud and scary and a little like hell-or so I thought.
Since my dad didn't work until 4 o clock in the afternoon, he would get us breakfast in the morning and help get me to school. His one treat-that he made especially for me- in my mind-was mashed up boiled eggs and toast. My mom never made this, it was dry cereal and toast with her. But my dad, he would make these 3 minute eggs and butter toast and smash it all up in a bowl and he would put milk on his, but just give me the mashed up eggs and toast. It looked completely awful, but YUM. That is my favorite memory of my dad Vernon. Mashed up 3 minute eggs and buttered toast.
As his career progressed, and we got older, he got more seniority and eventually became a supervisor. He had his own "truck" and kind of set his own hours. But no matter, he was up at 5am and at that school by 6am...to make sure that damn fire eating dragon boiler didn't break down, that the school was warm, that the kitchen was ready to go, that the classrooms were clean, and hey-during those Montana winters-he would shovel ALL the sidewalks. When the state got some money they bought him a tractor and plow. I think he spent 35+ years shoveling miles of sidewalks and driveways; not counting the time he spent shoveling when he was a kid at the school.
There's so much about Vernon that I could share. But some of that is for me. He was an incredible athlete. He was a great basketball player, he was a tremendous baseball-softball player. Even at almost 55+ years old; he was a catcher in a senior league and would go after foul balls like a young man. He could out bowl most anyone. He was honored for his bowling and named into a "Hall of Fame" for notable deaf bowlers. He could play poker with the best of them. He loved a dirty joke and a beer. He was intensely proud.. Proud of his wife and daughters. He would do ANYTHING for any of them and he did; many times. He was admired for his work ethic, his devotion to his school. The school that raised him and taught him most everything about life that he didn't learn back home from his dad. The school that was his life for almost 65 years.
I miss my dad-and while I feel really bad that I had to think of it today -of all days- to share my story about my dad; Vernon was epic. I just wanted you to know. RIP Vernon.
