By marfdrat on May 8, 2011
My Dad, Dootnie, died June 27, 2010 of complications from cancer surgery. He was 71 years old. I intend to write a full-length post about fulfilling Dad’s request to be taken to Cellar Mountain after he died, but I haven’t finished thinking it out yet.
Posted in Dootnie, Me gusta | Tagged Big Levels, blue ridge bear and coon club, cellar mountain, dad, dootnie, george washington national forest, mom, Ray Reid, St. Mary's Wilderness Area | Leave a response
By marfdrat on February 20, 2011
I wrote a piece back in November about hunting season, and how it wasn’t going to be the same with my Dad not being around. I saw in my web analytics tool today where I got a referral link from the website of The Blue Ridge Bear and Coon Club. I went out to take a look at the site, since I had not seen it before (it looks like a fairly recent creation). Anyway – I was browsing through some pictures that were posted there, and found this one, from the good ol’ days. I’m guessing, based on the haircut and lack of facial hair that this was circa 1975:
Posted in Dootnie, Me gusta | Tagged big levels game management area, big levels quadrangle, blue ridge bear and coon club, dootnie, george washington national forest, hunting, john, St. Mary's Wilderness Area | Leave a response
By marfdrat on December 19, 2010
My family and I are heading up to New York City for a couple of days. We’ll be driving – we find that to be less of a pain in the butt than the expense, headaches, and groping of flying. The city is great the week before Christmas – we first did this in ’03, and have been back a couple of times since then. We’re taking my Mom, who hasn’t been there since she was a teenager. It’ll be one of the first times since my Dad died that she’s been on multi-day trip out of town. We’re looking forward to having a good time, and doing all the touristy stuff: Empire State Building, Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, Macy’s, Central Park, Museum of Natural History – all that.
By marfdrat on November 22, 2010
It has been almost five months since Dootnie died. It’s been two months since I last wrote a post about him. It’s not that I haven’t been thinking about him; that happens every day, several times a day. One day in October I was reading the post about the day he died, and I had to stop. I was taking a lunch break at work, and for some reason gravitated back to the words I wrote that day. I started thinking about the sadness my family experienced that day and I was coming close to tears – which would have been tough to explain to the next person that walked up to my cube.
By marfdrat on September 20, 2010
I was up at my Mom’s house at Pine Forest last weekend to do some work. Debbie and Lindsey and I took a power washer and spent the better part of the afternoon washing the house. She went to Crewe as we were finishing and brought back some pizza for us to eat. As we chatted about the work we had done, and other things she’s been doing around the house since Dad died, she said something that stuck with me. Referring to a conversation she recently had with her sister Joyce (who lives at the other end of what used to be my Grandpa Johnie’s farm):
By marfdrat on September 12, 2010
I went out to Pine Forest yesterday to cut grass and fish a (very) little. I spent about four hours cutting grass and trimming around the pond, and maybe thirty minutes fishing. I’ve written about Pine Forest a lot, and I thought I would put together a post to show you what it looks like.
By marfdrat on August 15, 2010
Dad told us lots of stories over the years about the things he did as a child.
There was a page in Dad’s book that asked about a “clubhouse or hideaway” that they had as a child, and it asked him to describe it:
By marfdrat on July 28, 2010
As a child, my parents drilled into me the importance of showing up.
Dad taught by example:
In twelve years of school I only missed 1 day in Junior High School, and in 33 years of working for Southern States Cooperative, Vepco, and Chesapeake and Potomac Telephone Company, I had perfect attendance. I thank God for giving me good health and I thank the school system for teaching the importance of being there every day and being on time. They have stopped teaching that today along with a lot of other things. People today think of any excuse to miss work or take their children out of school at the drop of a hat. Of couse that might keep them from being shot on the school yard that day. Times have changed and will continue to change at a more and more rapid pace.
Whether it was for school, or church, or later, for work – you needed to be there. The five of us rarely missed school. I had perfect attendance in grades 1, 2, and 4 through 12. Though I can’t recall the details, my siblings had similarly good attendance records, with very few missed days. I had one (or two, perhaps) of those childhood diseases – chicken pox, maybe – in the third grade. I don’t recall getting anything as a result of that effort, though, until high school. I was one of a handful of students recognized for perfect attendance at my graduation ceremony. My sister Shannon was recognized at her graduation for nine consecutive years of perfect attendance. I seem to recall the school’s administration wanting to revoke my perfect attendance because I had an exceedingly large number of late arrivals and early dismissals. But – I was there every day.
By marfdrat on July 22, 2010
Dad was a hard-working man, and he taught me and my siblings about the value of hard work.
Not through words so much, but through example. His diligent and progressively more responsible work over his teenage years and adult career earned him and my mother a comfortable retirement. We were not well-off by monetary standards, but we certainly never went without anything we needed. Because of his background, his childhood’s proximity to the Great Depression, and the examples of his parents and grandparents, he knew this truth: “if you don’t work, you don’t eat”. And he worked.
By marfdrat on July 20, 2010
A brief introduction
My Dad, Frank Reid Sr., passed away on June 27 – just a few weeks ago. After the trauma of his not-entirely-unexpected but too-soon death from complications related to renal cancer, my siblings and I have had some time to reflect and remember some of the things we loved about him. He left us lots of wonderful memories that we will treasure and burnish, like fine pieces of family-heirloom jewelry, but one of the best was a memoir that he wrote over a period of several years in the late ’90s and the early part of the 2000s. It was a book that my sister Shannon and her husband Joseph gave him in 1997 called “A Father’s Legacy”. Full of all kinds of prompts to jog his memory, she hoped that he would record answers for our later benefit.