The Duck Pond

 

 

 

 

 

 

DAD

 

 

 

I want to take a few minutes of your time today to tell you about my biggest hero.

He has always put us first and done whatever it took to make sure we, my brothers and I, had everything we needed.  He worked in a job that wasn’t his first choice for a career, followed it around the country from one place to another. Always making just under what he needed to, to set himself and his family up more then just adequately.

 

He would be the first to tell you he wasn’t perfect, that he made mistakes and some of them were serious ones.  But he always learned from those mistakes, he looks at whatever the problem is until he figures it out and knows how to do better.  He never gives up and stops trying.  He just keeps plugging away, one more step, one more satellite dish for the RV.

 

I wanted to do a tribute for Fathers day this year.

Something to let you know that you had made an impact in our life, in your career... that your old colleagues still think about you.  Mom gave me names of some of your friends, not to mention a great anecdote.

 

(Hummm, It seems you were  a bit of a feather ruffler when we lived in TX as explained by your friend Barthy Byrd,)

 

  If the world of Broadcast news is normally a school of sharks under a fish packing plant, then you were an apex ambush predator.

 

Mom say’s: “Barthy is the one who told me at my 1st radio station Christmas party that Dad was the most hated news guy in El Paso!  When I stammered "I beg your pardon?" she laughed and told me that everyone went to the same meeting and shouted all kinds of questions.  Dad would sit there quietly and then as everyone prepared to leave he'd ask the one pertinent question that provided him with the real story.  She became a good friend of Dad's.  Unfortunately they lost touch several years ago.  Dad’s fault, probably.  He doesn't do well as a personal correspondent.”

 

Barthy Byrd;  

 

“When Jim was first reporting at KROD radio, he got all kinds of stories and all kinds of quotes from people that veteran reporters from both print and broadcast could never get.  No one could understand why until, one day, the chief of police at the time told me that it was because Jim could blend in with everyone else and nobody realized he was around until it was too late.  The chief said he didn't exactly hide, he just leaned against a wall somewhere and all these "important" people doing "important" things ignored him and talked away in his presence. 

 

 Nobody even knew who he was; they just knew that some guy with this great, deep radio voice knew things about them and their business that he shouldn't have known.  The chief finally told them all who he was and then everyone was on the lookout for him.  Nothing was as easy for Jim after that but the good news was that he had gained everyone's grudging respect and, after that, no one ever took the little guy with the big voice for granted.” 

 

 

“By deliberately blending into the city hall furniture so that he could observe the high and mighty of El Paso while they chattered on and ignored him, much to their peril and embarrassment as they found out. He was able to get stories that eluded other reporters.”

 

 

When I contacted Barthy about contributing to this piece I was not as clear as maybe I could have been.  I ended up give her the impression that you had passed away and I was writing your Eulogy.  Sorry dad you don’t get off that easy.

 

 I did better with Terrell Metheny and he gave me two great stories;

 

“Jim was news director of KUUY/KKAZ when I joined the stations in 1981. We began taking information from the police scanners and broadcasting news events pretty much as they were happening.

Soon, Jim and I were called to a meeting "down town". I’d never seen so many uniforms....state police, city police, sheriffs from several counties, etc. And, they were not happy with us using that information.

In my usual "damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead" big city, this is freedom of the press, no finesse way, I challenged them.

Jim, in his rather mild, soft spoken way, offered an olive branch for my outspoken behavior and a plan. The officers accepted Jim’s proposal, and I was pretty well persona non-gratis.”

 

         “Shortly thereafter a major story broke in the Cheyenne area. I don’t remember the story now; seems like it might have been a hostage situation. News reporters from Denver and the networks were swarming to Cheyenne to cover the event.....but, the area was closed to all reporters. However, the authorities saw Jim there and allowed him to be the only reporter to go behind the barriers. He got the story and came out and reported it to the other reporters.....after calling it in and making sure it was on our stations’, first.”

 

      When mom gave me Terrell’s Address she told me he would probably tell me the story about walking in the snow.  She was right.

 (this  is not you dad )

“My favorite story of Jim is one of loyalty and determination. It gets mighty cold in Cheyenne. One cold winter afternoon I was driving down Lincoln Way, a few blocks from the radio station and saw Jim hoofing it toward home. I turned around and asked where he was going. "Home": he said. I offered him a ride and learned that he was walking home because his car was broken down and he’d walked to work....at about 2:30 or 3 in the morning when the temperature was 10-20 or 30 degrees below zero.”

“Then, I discovered, that wasn’t the first day he’d walked to work. He’d been walking to work for a week or so. He hadn’t said a word. Didn’t call in sick or ask for a ride. No one knew it. No whining. No complaining. No missing of work. He just got up early and walked...I don’t know 5-10 miles to work in sub-zero temperatures, arriving at 4 or so in the morning. That’s Jim...loyal, dependable, determined, completely trustworthy......and a little pig headed.”

 

“I could go on, but I can just see Jim, now, head hangin’ down...looking at the floor, a subtle smile on his face, kinda mumbling ....."ah, come on, you’re embarrassing me...it wasn’t anything"   

 

(The more I dig at this the more I am learning about you dad, soon you will have no secrets.   MU-WA HAHAHA)

 

I don’t remember most of the things that you gave my brothers and I when we were kids, but one thing I do remember (even though it didn’t last very long) was the control board you made for us.  We didn’t treat it very well but I have never forgotten that.  And I know I’m not the only one.  Also I remember that beautiful clock you made for mom when you worked at KTSM

     Even getting your friends at work to tell mom you were in meetings when you worked on it so she wouldn’t find out.

 

 

 

You have told me many times over the years that you admire the way I always seem to have work and always take care of my family.  How “no mater what life throws at me I never give up.”

But even when I did give up a few times, when things got really bad, you still managed to make it seem like the things I did were important.  I wonder if you realize that the example that you set while I was growing up, (as peaceful and tranquil a time as that was) is what taught me how to keep going?  

 

In my mind, in the still softness that I retreat to when I go to sleep my dreams are narrated at times by my Dad. That has been a great comfort to me at times (and a really annoying dirty trick at others) When I need to figure something out and I have turned it every way I think I can, his voice is always there asking “how about this?”.

 

 The impact that you have had on my life has never been greater then it is now dad.

 

I love you

Happy Fathers Day