For the third year running, the family got invited up to Steckel Park in Santa Paula to share in an awesome outdoor feast prepared by the scouts of Troop 262 from Camarillo. G and I hopped in the car and ate those 100 miles up in nothing flat. As with the past couple years, I got to speak about Dad. As usual, I injected a message that I thought Dad would appreciate. I got a lot of solid compliments from the adult leadership, and even a few from the kids, about my speech.

The interesting bit about this particular speech is that I wrote it in a rough total of 2.5 hours. 1.5 the night before, and 1 the morning of the speech typing it up and fleshing it out. Sometimes, I work pretty well under pressure. See below the break for the rest of the speech. These operated as my notes, so what I said wasn’t EXACTLY what is written below, but it’s pretty close.

I’ve talked quite a bit about the teacher Dad was. Teaching is a big part of leadership, and something dad did often while we were growing up. I wrote a poem in high school about him called “The Teacher”, which opened with “Dad’s advice was nearly almost always right.”

Even if they didn’t sink in, the lessons sat there in my brain, dormant, until they were ready to present themselves, sometimes years, or even decades later!

One of the lessons he tried to teach me early on was that, when life overwhelmed you, pause, and make sure your priorities are straight. Remember what’s important, do more of that, and you’ll be happier. In conjunction with that lesson came the lesson that family is very important. It should be at least a title contender for the highest priority in our busy lives.

Often, his solution to such life overloading boiled down to “Go Fishing” or “Go on vacation” with the family. Fishing with dad was one of the great joys for my brother and I. Peacefully sitting on a lake, getting skunked, learning how to bait our hooks with some random concoction (mealyworms and colored marshmallows are two of the weirder things I put on a fishhook), telling jokes, or just sitting in silence enjoying each other’s company.

Family vacations often included fishing as one of the many varied things we’d do. Dad was big on “Learn so you can teach”, and had an unusually good memory for facts. When we’d go on vacation, he’d read tons of books and magazine articles and encyclopedia entries about where we were going just so that he could, in the event a tour guide wasn’t available, function as a pretty capable one.
One particular family vacation consisted of an approximately 2.6 million mile drive across the United States to visit such things as Yellowstone, Custer’s last stand, Mt. Rushmore, the Crazy Horse monument, and as many states as we could get under our feet or tires. Dad enthusiastically pointed out all sorts of facts as we moved through these places, things like

  • For Mt. Rushmore: “Their heads are 60 feet tall!”
  • For Crazy Horse: “This thing isn’t gonna be done for 20 years” (It’s still not done)
  • For Custer’s Last Stand: “Picture 600 of Custer’s guys against almost 2000 Indian fighters”
  • For Yellowstone: “Old Faithful has been known to erupt nearly 200 feet in the air” or “time between the eruptions are getting longer”

Somewhere in Colorado or Wyoming or South Dakota (to narrow it down a bit) there is a dirt road leading away from a two-lane highway leading into some rolling hills and prairie. It is said that if one wants to see buffalo, this dirt road is a good road to take. We’d seen one or two buffalo as we’d been driving, but we all wanted to see lots (except, perhaps for my mother, who had been frightened earlier because a bathing buffalo, upset at having its picture taken, ran her off angrily). My dad, being a good leader, and knowing when to listen to his followers, took the road.

For what seemed HOURS to my young impatient mind, we drove, seeing nary a buffalo. Lots of prairie dogs, lots of grass and rolling hills, lots of dirt, but no buffalo. Dad kept us entertained with jokes and stories, trying his best to keep our spirits up, exuding confidence and infecting us with it.
Suddenly, we crested a hill and gasped collectively (even grandma, who was pretty hard to impress), for there were TONS of buffalo, as far as the eye could see. Sleeping, moving in herds, generally chillin’, by the HUNDREDS, all out in the open for us to watch from our van.

We were absolutely engrossed with the Buffalo while dad lectured about them: “They’re actually American Bison, Buffalo is a misnomer” “they’re mature after 3 years!” “They can live up to 15 years!”

In all this wondrous amazing spectacle of American wildlife, we didn’t notice until fairly late that, on the road in front of us, was the hugest sleeping bison EVER. Buffalo are huge, and this one took up the entire road. Going around wasn’t easy, with a steep hill on one side of the road and a shallow dropoff to the other.

Says Dad: “Let’s NUDGE him!”

He stepped on the accelerator jokingly. Mom was NOT into this idea. Roger and I just waited to see what would happen. Deciding that a bit of discretion here might be good, dad merely got VERY CLOSE to the buffalo (to mom’s consternation).

And then, without warning, he honked the horn.

I think the horn scared the occupants of our van more than the buffalo. Slowly, with exaggerated calmness, he brought his head around so he could get a look at us. He considered all the options, no doubt weighing “go back to sleep” against the other equally interesting options of “bash the big blue box full of humans” or “walk over there and eat some grass”.

Dad honked again.

The buffalo stood up, again, slowly, testing our patience. It turned so that its head was facing the front of our van. It shook some dust off its coat.

Mom seemed pretty scared at this point, having already been chased by one buffalo. Even nana was showing signs of nervousness, which was a rare condition for her. Roger and I were looking to see what dad would do.

What dad did was continue the buffalo tour, pointing out “See how tall he is? They can get up to 6 ½’ tall, I think this guy is over 6’!” “They can weigh more than a ton!” exuding not a lick of fear the whole time. Even as the buffalo approached the driver’s-side window, its massive and seemingly malevolent eye level with my dad’s head (remember, we were in a van, reminiscent of the T-rex from Jurassic park), dad continued to give us facts. “Wolves and bears are the only things these guys worry about, and then only if they’re young or sick/”

I took a quick inventory of our car. Two young, one elderly, not too sick. I hoped buffalo didn’t eat people. But dad just drove along, slowly, talking calmly the entire time, leading us away from the angry buffalo, fitting the image of a confident, competent leader (though later mom would swear to his temporary insanity), inspiring any sliver of fear right out of all of us.

I learned several things from these family vacations:

  1. Try not to piss off animals, especially those that are significantly bigger than you.
  2. There is a LOT of stuff to see in the US, if you don’t mind driving a few million miles
  3. When I look back, travelling with family are among some of the fondest memories I have of my childhood. This was serious quality time with the family.
  4. While travelling, we all learned lots. Mostly from Dad, but also from each other. I think that having new experiences together and learning from each other makes for some of the most high-quality time possible with the family.

Essentially, one of the lessons Dad left us was that family time is the most important time, and it should be treated as such. He was even known to turn down scouting events to spend time with us, despite the good-natured cajoling of his good friend Rex.

We pass on lots of things to our children, but one of the most important things, even more important than genes, is Information. So spend time together, interact, teach each other, LISTEN to each other.

Parents: Don’t give up! Even when the kids don’t seem like they’re listening, they are. It might take 20 years or so to sink in in some cases, but you’ve got to at least get the words into their heads.

Kids: Give parents a chance. They know a LOT of stuff. They’ve been on this earth a lot longer than you. Listen to what they’ve got to say, they might surprise you.

Everyone: Make time for each other. I know all our lives are really busy, but when you get older and look back, the time with Family is going to be very valuable. You don’t want to ever regret not spending enough time with them. And keep an open mind while you’re together—parents, even your kids can teach you stuff. I’m sure I at LEAST taught my dad patience and understanding!
Be alert, and be a good listener. You never know when you’re going to accidentally learn something from someone you love.