Ol' WDB's Column

-=+ FATHER'S DAY +=-
mailto:wdbonner@pacbell.net

Father's Day

In 1909, Sonora Dodd of Spokane, Washington, wanted fathers to be honored with a special day just like Mother's Day. Sonora's mother died in childbirth and her father raised the family on his own.

Because of Sonora's efforts, the first Father's Day was celebrated in Spokane on June 19, 1910 according to records.

In 1972 Richard Nixon officially declared the third Sunday of June as Father's Day.

I looked this information up as I wanted to establish firstly, that it is a real dedicated day and not just a folklore tradition. I found that the latest official recognition of this day that honors fathers, was in a declaration from the White House by president William J Clinton in June of 1999.

Father's Day having been established without a doubt as to it's authenticity, I wish to remind all of my Fido friends to remember their fathers on the third Sunday of this month. How you remember them of course is up to you individually. As for me, I remember my daddy as the most strict, stern, straight, honest, parent you can imagine; but with a warm, long suffering, patient, loving benevolence, topped with a keen dry sense of humor. You know the type, after he tells a joke... you "get it" in about a minute, then fall over laughing. He had to have a good sense of humor to weather the great depression and work for Santa Fe Rail Road for fifty cents a day as a switchman to feed his family in 1929, haul mail for the US government in 1930 to earn enough to start a dairy farm. That dairy drew to 75 "milking" cows, which had to be milked twice a day seven days a week. Just imagine the devotion and determination that alone took! Yes, myself and my three brothers worked side him helping with the many chores and there were many! By the time I was sixteen, I thought he was the strictest, meanest man on earth. At seventeen and a half I enlisted (May 1, 1943) in World War II to get away from that dairy farm life, and was convinced, In my mind, that my daddy was too dumb to learn anything else from me. After three years + in the North Atlantic Campaign to eradicate the Nazi and their U-Boats the war was won. I came home. For a few evenings I would sit on the old front porch after dinner, and daddy would be sitting by my side... we talked, as never before. He listened and replied. By the end of the week I thought my daddy was the wisest man I ever knew! How he learned so much in three + years was amazing! 8^)

No one ever wrote anything about my dad. So I take this opportunity with your permission, to honor my daddy. He died, (1964), of a heat stroke painting the Church house he was an Elder of for many years. I didn't realize the depth of his love for his family, his Church, his God until I was raising six children of my own! Love your daddy if he is living, and love his memory if he has passed on to Glory.

WDB