I muse at the vintage picture of Daddy, maybe ten, sitting on a donkey with his older sister close by. His father died when he was a child. I wish I had asked more questions about that time in his life.
He worked hard to support his family, and when the mines closed he found work at the Bon Ton filling station. A devastating explosion set him on fire and nearly killed him. He slowly recovered at the hospital in Granby.
Daddy also worked at the filling station across the street from the Savage Appliance Store. I overheard him tell Mama about the numbers he had to record and cypher. "Not bad for someone with a fourth grade education," he said.
Daddy fathered twelve children, working a garden, raising chickens, a cow, and hogs to supplement his salary. He enjoyed playing the guitar, banjo, fiddle, and piano by ear.
My favorite time was gathering around the piano, singing gospel songs. My oldest sister Doris played and sang alto, Daddy sang bass, and I sang a puny saprano.
I cherish the impact Daddy left on my life, making sure we never ever missed church even if we had to walk. It led me to Christ.
Daddy died in 1973.
