dad
Lately I have been trying to get an idea of who my dad was when he was in the service…what he went through, what his thoughts might have been, what his life was like. My dad was a top turret gunner and flight engineer on a B-17 Bomber during World War II. He was stationed at Great Ashfield in Suffolk, England, which was located North West of Elmswell. Little is visible of the Army Air Base now, unless you know what to look for. The area has been converted to farmland, but subtle memories remain…a tribute to those brave men who fought and really, saved England from a hostile takeover by the Nazis. It was World War II, and the United States had come in to stand up for what is right…freedom.
My dad was just 17 when he joined the Army Air Force in 1942. He has always had a deep sense of duty, and standing up for what is right. He fought in the European Theatre, serving as the flight engineer and the top turret gunner on a B-17G Bomber. He participated in 35 bombing missions, was accredited with shooting down 4 German planes and provided air cover over the beaches of Normandy on D-Day. When the war was over, he was honorably discharged and he returned home with the Distinguished Flying Cross, an Air medal with 4 oak leaf clusters, one for each plane he shot down, and 2 gold stars signifying that he had taken part in two major aerial engagements.
That is a story I have heard many times now, but really it is just a summary of what went on. I have often wondered just what a flight engineer is, so I did some research on that position on a B-17G Bomber in World War II. What I found is this. The flight engineer knew the all equipment on the B-17 better than any other crew member, including the pilot, from the engines to the radio equipment to the armament to the engines to the electrical system and to anything else. He may have served as maintenance crew chiefs before moving to the position of a B-17 flight engineer. The flight engineer was also the top turret gunner.
It amazes me that my dad…who was never one to brag…would have such an intricate knowledge of such a magnificent plane as the B-17G…”The Flying Fortress”…but that is exactly what he did. He was the man they turned to if things went wrong…the one they depended on in a crisis to get them down safely, which he did beautifully on at least one occasion. I guess that is why me dad always seemed to know what to do t solve any problem we might have had in life. To him I’m sure they seemed very small by comparison.
Dad was a man of deep thoughts and few words. He considered well what he might say about a situation, before he gave an opinion. He was slow to anger, and always 
cool 
in a crisis. He was a problem solver, who always put his sense of duty before his own desires. He loved his family and his country, and would have died defending any of them, had that been required if him. He was a man to be proud of and the one I am proud to call Daddy. I miss him a lot, but I know I will see him again in Heaven. Today I say, “Thank you Dad, for all you did in your life to make life better for those who were around you, and loved you.”
Sometimes it just amazes me that a child can look so much like one parent, and yet at the same time can look so much like the other parent. Not in every way of course, but while they may look a lot like one parent, they can take on a whole different look when they smile or maybe frown.
Such is the case with my grandson, Caalab. Now Caalab is definitely his daddy’s boy. He looks and acts so much like Travis that it is like looking at a picture of Travis, and I’m sure that when they look at each other, it is like looking in a mirror. And their personalities…well, anyone who knows them can tell you that Caalab definitely got his personality from Travis. Wow…it’s like they rehearsed it or something.
But, sometimes when I look at a picture of Caalab, he reminds me so much of his mom that it astounds me. He smiles like Amy smiles, and when they are both deep in thought, they look so much alike. I have pictures of them as little babies, that could almost pass for the same child, and yet I have seen pictures of Travis as a young boy that are totally Caalab.
It isn’t unusual for a child to look totally like one parent or the other, or be so much a mix of the two that the child doesn’t really look like either of them, but to look so much like his dad, and yet sometimes look so much like his mom, seems unusual to me. Of course, I must say that with Caalab, it is pretty much in a look here and there, and certain situations that he is like his mom, because in most ways, 
I have never seen a boy more like his dad!! It’s almost uncanny.
I guess children are their own people, built from the DNA of their parents, and taking from both sides, but sometimes there is enough alike in them to take you by surprise. And when the similarities come so early on in life, you just can’t believe that it is the child copying the parent. Caalab has always been a jokster, as has Travis, but when Caalab started telling whole jokes at 4 or 5, and never missing the punch line…I had to remind myself that he couldn’t be reading them. It was just Caalab being just like his dad. That is one place where he is definitely all Travis.
When my parents were dating, they sometimes double dated with my mom’s sister, Evelyn, and her husband, George. They would go to formal affairs, such as the military ball, but more often they went to movies. Family was important to all of them, and sometimes the best double date is your family.
One night, Mom, Dad, Aunt Evelyn and Uncle George went to the movies. The had a great time and were enjoying their visit on the way home. My dad had driven that night, and so he and my mom were taking Aunt Evelyn and Uncle George to their Mills home, before he would take my mom home.
It was a beautiful moonless night. They drive past The Wagon Wheel skating rink, and around the corner to the railroad track. At that time, there was no signal light or gate. As they started to cross the track, something caught Uncle George’s eye. Thankfully for all of them, he knew what it was. He yelled, “Train!” My Dad instinctively turned the wheel in the same direction as the train was going, and the car was dragged along beside the train until the train was able to stop.
My dad was normally a very calm man, but this was no normal situation. Dad got out of the car and threw down the popcorn he had been holding in his lap. He went up to the engineer, and started yelling at him. You see, the engineer didn’t have the headlight turned on in the engine, and remember that it was a moonless night with limited lighting in the area.
The engineer insisted that it wasn’t his fault. The police were called, and a representative from the railroad showed up. They argued the matter back and forth, but even with the 4 people in my dad’s car insisting that the engine had no headlight on, the railroad wouldn’t step up and do the right thing. The accident was deemed my dad’s fault.
So, after a very frustrating investigation, the couples were cleared to go. They got back into the car, which was thankfully, ok to drive, and my dad started looking around. He searched for several minutes, and them my mom asked, “What are you looking for?” To which my dad answered, “My popcorn!!” They all began to laugh then and told him that he had thrown it on the ground when he got out of the car, because he was so mad at the engineer. You can imagine Dad’s surprise. He simply didn’t remember throwing the popcorn down, because of the shock of the whole situation. It would be the one thing they could laugh about when they thought back on the train wreck.
My dad never was a man to wear a beard. In fact, he didn’t like how they looked. He always wore a moustache, and we always thought he looked very handsome. In fact, I think that is probably why I like moustaches today, but I don’t ever remember my dad wearing a beard.
He did wear one however…once. It was during the Minnesota State Centennial, and my family lived in Superior, Wisconsin, which is just across the bridge from Duluth, Minnesota. One of the event of that celebration was a beard competition, and my dad decided to join in the fun. I don’t know if there was an actual contest or not, but there were a lot of men who were competing. Dad reminds me of a thinner Sebastian Cabot, who played Mr French on the old television show, “A Family Affair.” I always liked Mr French, I guess in many ways, his protectiveness reminded me of my dad.
I think I would like to have seen that, because my parents were dressed up as pioneers. 
Mom wore a long skirt and Dad a suit. Dad carried a cane. They looked very distinguished. They didn’t really tell me much about the celebration, but I have checked into it, and there was a parade…of course, there is always a parade, isn’t there. They also had a Centennial Train, which was fashioned after the Freedom Train that had transported the Declaration of Independence and other important documents around America after World War II ended. And of course, there was a beauty pageant. But to me, the Centennial will always mean the time that my dad grew a beard and my parents dressed up like pioneers, in celebration of 100 years of statehood for Minnesota.
Today is my Dad’s birthday. He would have been 87 years old today, and I really wish he was here to celebrate the day. I miss him so very much. This day feels so empty now. He was such an amazing man. And he lived such a full life. I am so blessed to have had him for my dad. He was the best dad in the world.
My dad was born in Superior, Wisconsin, the third of four children of my grandparents Allen Luther Spencer and Anna Louise (Schumacher) Spencer. Dad was a happy-go-lucky kid with a great sense of humor. My Uncle Bill told me of some of the funny things his little brother did, like falling asleep standing up while they were playing on the wood pile. And the two of them pulling the many pranks they pulled together. I was told years ago of a time when he had been told several times, like most kids are, not to rock back in his chair, and when it fell, my grandmother said, “Zo, du bist a okaman!” Which is to say, “So, you are a big man!” Well, maybe not then Grandma, but to all who knew him…yes, he was!!
To me and my sisters, however he was Dad. He brought much laughter into our lives with his wit. Dad loved a good joke. I remember many a time that he would pull some prank on us and then laugh with total delight when his joke went off as planned. I remember his delighted laugh so well that I can still hear it very clearly. But, he was also, our hero. He held off the lions and bears…or at least kept them out of camp, by being so brave and putting another log on the fire so we were safe. He protected us from any unforeseen monster…especially moths…which our child’s minds could concoct. He just always had the answer, or the muscle to take care of whatever needed taking care of. He was our hero.
Like so many other things about my dad that feel like they happened only yesterday. Dad was truly the last of the true gentlemen. He carried himself with a dignity that you don’t see anymore. My mom was treated like a princess. That is just how Dad was. He loved her with all his heart, and it showed in all he did. He and my mom had a beautiful marriage, and Mom misses him terribly. He made all of “his girls” feel so special, and since he and my mom had five daughters…no sons…he got to have six of “his girls” and he treated us all like his little princesses. We were all so blessed.
Dad showed us and taught us the important things in life. He wasn’t a showy man, he was a solid, grounded man with unquestionable values and solid faith. The values he taught us will live inside us forever. He loved having his kids and grandkids around him, and what a blessing that was. He always had time for us. He helped with homework, played, and led us in the ways we should go. He and my mom made sure we were raised to know and have a personal relationship with God, and let us know in no uncertain terms, that he disapproved when we missed church. His values are still strong in his children today. And he was a capable man. He always knew how to find a solution to our problems
. We always knew we could go to him and he would know what to do. He always had a way to fix whatever seemed to have gone wrong.
He served his country willingly, and his military record is exemplary. He told us a few stories from the war, but he never thought himself a hero…in any capacity. On that matter, he was wrong. My dad was very much a hero…in every area of his life, but mostly to his family. He was a great man. My sisters, my mom, his grandchildren and great grandchildren, many friends and other family members, and I miss him terribly!! Happy birthday Daddy!! We all love you very much!!
As my dad’s birthday approaches, my thoughts naturally turn to him more. Dad passed away December 12, 2007, and on that day, my world turned upside down. It’s strange how the mind can trick you into thinking that nothing will ever change in your life, but all along, the world is changing…the circle of life is in constant motion. Somehow, I missed the fact that my dad was getting older, and looking back at some of the last pictures taken of him, it was so obvious. I just couldn’t see it. In my eyes, my dad was forever young.
I suppose that was due mostly to the fact that my dad acted forever young. He was a big kid, really. The grandchildren and then the great grandchildren took their turn playing with Grandpa. He loved teasing them, and they loved being teased. He would sit in his chair in the kitchen, and the kids would do their very best to run by him without getting caught. If they were successful, they would run to the back door, giggling and excited.
Dad was that way with any kid. In the picture here, Dad was teasing my sisters on a vacation…to their great delight…and his. You just never knew what Dad was going to pull next. He always loved a good joke. We all learned our teasing nature from him. I remember once he was teasing my sister Allyn, when she was little. He told her that they left Allyn behind at the last stop, and she was little brat. We all laughed about that, and his way of teasing those he loved by calling them a brat was born. I don’t ever remember him calling me a brat in anger, always teasing.
Dad had a lot of funny sayings. Dad burnit was one we heard often, because my dad never cussed. He was a man of principle, a trait I highly admired. Many people cuss only in anger, but not my dad. He just didn’t do it…ever!! He didn’t need to cuss to express himself. He would not compromise his principles, and to tell you the truth, Dad just never saw the sense in being angry all the time. People around him would stress out…myself included…but he would somehow always find humor in every situation. Like the little kid laughing at something no one else perceived as funny, my dad just never let life steal his joy. He was a happy, joyful person and I’m sure that is what kept him forever young. I love you Daddy.
We seldom think about what our parents are teaching us until they are gone. Then the lessons come back to mind in floods, bittersweet with regret, because they are gone. The lessons from my dad that I find the most important, are the ones of caring and compassion. My dad was a very forgiving and understanding man, something I am not always able to be, but a goal that I have put in front of myself.
Dad was a problem solver. He had a way of making you feel like everything was going to be ok. No matter what the problem was, Dad could fix it. I can still hear him saying, “Here is what we are going to do.” He always had the answers, and I always knew he could fix anything. Maybe that statement isn’t exactly true, but in my mind it always will be, and I keenly miss that feeling of perfectness my world had those days. Now, there are times that everything is wrong in my world. There is an emptiness I can’t fill, a pain I can’t stop, and loneliness that lives in my core.
You see, my dad and I thought quite a bit alike, and while we did have a tendency to debate many subjects, it was mostly in good fun. I did always know when enough was enough though, because Dad would say, “Don’t argue with me.” Well, that was the point when he was done with our little debate, and I…well, I knew it. It’s funny because my sisters could never believe that I lived through those years. Whenever my dad and I argued, they were sure that I was about to get the “death sentence” because they would never have dared to argue with Dad like that, but I just knew that Dad didn’t mind a good debate, and even relished them to a big degree.
One of the greatest lessons Dad taught us was to live life to the fullest. He loved this great country, and made sure we saw a whole lot of it. When my grade school teachers asked what we did on our summer vacations, I always had an interesting place to tell about. Dad and Mom took us so many places, and we were truly blessed in that. We learned a lot about this great country. My cousin said of my dad after bringing Dad’s brother, his dad, for a visit and looking at all our travel pictures…”Man, he really lived.” And he was so right. Dad really…really lived!!
When I was a little girl, we had the most amazing German Shepherd dog ever. His name was King…for short. My parents actually named him LarKing Raesuekayal Vonlished. I can’t say for sure that I spelled that correctly, but if you sound it out, you will come pretty close to the correct pronunciation of his name. King was named after all for my sisters and me. Middle names were used for the three older girls, and the first part of the first name on my younger two sisters. Mom and Dad wanted his name to have special meaning. And it always has.
King was just about the greatest dog ever. When we were little he gave us girls “horsey” rides, and seemed to love doing it. He was very loving. King loved having the neighborhood kids come in to play, but we did have to tell them not to climb the fence without one of us girls there. Dad trained him not to bite obviously, but even more, you could put your arm in his mouth, and he would never even let his teeth touch your arm. But when it came to protecting his family, watch out. He wouldn’t have to bite…his bark was usually enough. He did bite one time, when a neighborhood boy was throwing rocks at him…boy was he in trouble with his mom when she found out. She wouldn’t even let the police issue any kind of ticket or warning, of course there was the required quarantine, but that was all.
The funniest thing King ever did though, was one time when my mom’s dad came over for a visit. Mom was on the phone when Grandpa knocked on the door. She motioned him to come in, and went on with her conversation. A few minutes later, she realized that he hadn’t come in. Thinking that he hadn’t heard, she motioned again. Then, she realized what the problem was. King was “guarding” the door. She said, “King, you let him in!!” She said it was the only time she had seen a dog smile. King sheepishly looked away, with a grin on his face, and my grandfather was able to come inside. I really miss that dog!!
