Today we unveiled the tribute sign to my Dad by the FunCation; his last project.

Howie has been working on this since last August, going through two different vendors and then having to insist that a section of granite that broke be re created for the sign.  It’s a beautiful memorial and Dad would have hated all the fuss, but it was touching to see such a huge crowd of family, friends and volunteers come to pay their respects.

 

Chuck managed to hold it together to share some insights about our father.  He had to stop several places along the way, as emotion over flowed, but he was surprisingly in control for the most part.  Trundy video taped it and I’ve asked her to send me the file.  Chuck started out by saying that people would remember Dad for his smile, if they were ever lucky enough to talk with him long enough to see it.  They would remember him for his work ethic, his love of family and his love of God.  I guess he said that for Mom and the preacher, Colly Caldwell and his wife, who were there because they had donated to the sign.

 

Chuck went on to say that Dad was a runner.  After his heart attack and the damage done to his leg when the surgeons removed some of the veins to use around his heart, Dad could only shuffle along.  In the 20 years he worked here, I’d only experienced him moving fast once.  Chuck told of his time that he saw Dad run.

 

I never knew it until today, but when Chuck first came to work here, he was using the bobcat tractor to pull out invasive species trees called Brazilian peppers.  Emboldened by the power of the bobcat, Chuck was taking larger and larger bites into the trees and pulling them out by the roots.  He did that right up until the point that he flipped the bobcat over and was face down in the dirt.  Not wanting to set the whole thing on fire, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to escape the rollover cage, Chuck turned off the key.  The sudden silence caused Dad to look up and see his son, upside down, in the deathly quiet bobcat.

 

Chuck said that Dad ran across the field like he’d never seen him run.  He out ran Scott Haller who was 20 years younger.  Turns out Chuck was fine.

 

Chuck went on to talk about how every time a family member needed Dad, to help them alongside the road with a broken down vehicle, or to help them with a repair, or to help financially, Dad was always running in to the rescue.  Jamie and I had just been talking about the fact that we have no one to call any more.  We didn’t realize how much we relied on him to fix everything, even when his body was so close to wearing out.

 

Thinking of Dad running reminded me of the only time in my adult life that I experienced him running.  Twice when I was a kid he ran as I had run-ins with a coral snake (age 6?) and a water moccasin (age 9?)  On this night we were both leaving the sanctuary via Easy Street after dark.  If I had to guess, I’d say it was circa 2005-2007 because my life was being threatened by then, pretty regularly, by the breeders and dealers who were angry about the sea change they attributed to me.

 

Dad left first, made his turn off the dirt road to the right and then the U-turn at the light.  I was approaching Citrus Park Dr., when I saw a kitten dart across Easy St.  I parked, hopped out, ran to the side of the road and then leapt for the kitten.  No sooner had I grabbed the kitten, a hand yanked me off my feet and out of the brush.  I held onto the kitten for dear life; knowing that she would end up in traffic and be killed, if I let go.  My thoughts were more on the kitten’s plight, than wondering what gorilla had just jerked me off my feet.

 

Dad, the kitten and I were all pretty stunned, as we came face to face.  Apparently, after he had made the U-turn, across 4 lanes of traffic, he’d slowed down to see my car stop. He pulled off the road to see why.  When he saw me lurch into the brush he thought someone had grabbed me.  In the time it took me to leap into the bushes and nab the k