There are so many ways that I remember my dad. I don't always think about him, but when I do pause to remember, I remember ...The rafts he built for us so we could "go rafting" on the sloughs in the spring.The willow whistles he made for us that we could never play the way he was able to play a tune.The school project he helped me with where he ended up gashing his hand with the wood chisle because I was being "helpful" and sharpened it. I didn't tell him that I had and it cut him quite badly. I still remember that he never got mad at me.The time he stood up to the whole community by not allowing us to ride on an overcrowded school bus. He drove us to and from school until another school bus was added.The trips to the field in the winter on the back of a stoneboat loaded with manure and watching him spreading the manure over the field.The wiener (hot dog) roasts on a...
