Daddies have a different role than Mother's do in our lives. Daddy was away working in the coal mines in Oklahoma most of my young life. He stayed in Henrietta from Sunday evening until Friday night. It was hard on us all. I missed him terribly and I know now how hard it had to be on Mama having to take all responsibility of things like she did. As soon as his Friday shift was over he and other men would head home to Arkansas getting home late.
Week-ends for Daddy were not restful. In the summer he raised a big garden helping to provide food for us. He plowed, planted, cultivated, and harvested on those week-ends. We had a hog to butcher and veggies from the garden. I loved following Daddy as he walked behind the plow that was hooked to our horse Ol' Dixie. Not much rest for either of my parents as they raised and provided for my Brother and I but on Saturday night they usually took us to the show in Ozark to watch what usually was a western. As I got to my teen years I was less apt to want to stay home but Daddy wanted us all with him while he was home. If I talked him and Mama in to taking me to a party or a teen dance they sat in the car and waited on me to get ready to come home. If they waited to be able to watch me for safety or if it was to save gas in the car I don't know but I suspect it was a bit of both.
Growing up wasn’t simple or easy or anything like those 50's TV shows. I’m pretty sure no family is like this, actually. There’s always drama, bullies, secrets, tragedies, and everybody seems to pull through somehow. I loved my daddy more than words could say as a kid, I wanted to be beautiful to him, to be smart and worthy of his attention.
We can get away with more with our Daddies than we can with our Mama's probably because they aren't there as much. I remember Daddy getting after me for something and I'd take off running. Here he'd come after me vowing to bust my britches. Now I know Daddy could have caught me in an instant but he never quiet did. I remember one day stopping and looking back at him, I'm sure with a mischievous grin, and he started laughing.
My Daddy was a small statured man. 5/7, size 7 shoe, 160 lbs. Small to some but a giant to me. I thought he was 10 ft. tall and could do anything in the world. Daddy was quiet and gentle most of the time. Slow to anger but scrappy when provoked.
Daddy had a hard life. Had to quit school in the 2nd grade and work on Papa's farm. Papa seemed to think that girls needed to be in school but as he put it, Boys needed to work not push a pencil.
Daddy's Mamma died when Daddy was still a baby and Papa remarried. The step mother was not good to Daddy. I was told that Papa didn't know about this and I choose to believe that because I loved my Papa.
Daddy left home when he was 15 to escape his hard life. He lived with his Sister and her family and joined the CCC camp since he couldn't get in the regular army with only one eye. Later he went down in the dark coal mines the only work he could get with his education. He worked in the mines for 27 yrs.
I had a great life growing up in a house full of love and laughter. We never had much but our lives were full and I never suspected we were poor.
I know Daddy was hurt when he couldn't give us things we wanted. We had what we needed and some things we wanted. I don't remember ever complaining much or even missing what I couldn't have. It was just the way of things and I accepted it.
