He was born in Ropesville, Texas the second son of Leon and Iva Ree Young. They lived outside of town in a little farm house. He and his brother Daryl played outside as much as possible and likely got into as much trouble as possible. Granny told the story of his first day of school. She was so upset and went out into the cotton field to see Grandaddy to get comfort. She was crying so hard Grandaddy jumped down from the tractor because he thought something was wrong. She said "my baby went to school". Grandaddy shook his head and got back on the tractor. Dad would tell us stories about a group of boys who were always getting into trouble. Hanging rabbits from the town water tower, burning their HS emblem in an opposing team's football field, staging a walk out over not wanting to conform to the short hair expectations of the school. He referred to this wild gang as the "mean boys". It took Mica and I until we were in high school ourselves to realize he was a member of the ornery "mean boys" and probably most of these things were his ideas.
He had a yellow Camaro with black and white houndstooth interior in HS and he was crazy about that car. He would drive to Levelland to pick up Beth Northcutt for dates. And he never said much about her hairstyle and color that were different each week because she was a cosmetology student. They got married on May 10, 1974. The early years of their marriage, they spent a great deal of time with their best friends Martin and Sharla and their chow Angie. A few years later, I was born followed by Mica 3 years later.
I remember him playing tickle monster every night with us, reading books to us while I was curled up in his lap and Mica found better things to do. He was strong willed and so I came by this naturally. I remember the day I stopped salting my food thanks to him. I wanted salt on my supper but wanted to do it myself. I was probably 3 or 4, finally in exasperation he handed it to me and told me to go for it. Well I went for it. All of it. Salted the heck out of my supper. And then I took a bite. I remember running from the table screaming and wiping my mouth while he sat there and just watched. I still like to be right (just ask Stephen) and I know this is in my genes.
He taught me to ride a bike with no training wheels. He let go for the first time as I was headed toward a turn in the sidewalk. Not knowing what to do, I slammed into the light pole and promptly fell over. He taught me to throw "like a boy" and taught me to catch. He taught me how to cast a fishing pole but I was never interested in baiting the hook. That was Mica's deal. He taught me how to love God and how to serve others. We were at church every time the doors were open. We didn't have much, but my parents were willing to give what we had if someone was in greater need. They gave MY bed away twice to families who didn't have beds. He taught me that working hard is the only way to work. He worked 3 and 4 jobs at a time while going to school to support our family. I didn't have any idea then but now, I could not be more grateful for his example. He went on school field trips with us and consequently our group usually consisted of the rowdiest kid in class because the teacher thought a man could handle it. He cheered us on at our Bike-a-thons and made sure our bikes were in perfect working order. If something broke, he fixed it. And if he couldn't fix it, he had a friend who could. He taught me community. We were not near any family growing up, so we had "cousins" that were close friends. Eddie, Carol, Wesley and Jeffrey are a part of some of my favorite memories and the example of friendship from our parents is something I admire. He was strict and hard on us but now I'm thankful for those expectations. He was grouchy a lot. I now know that working 3-4 jobs and coming home to high pitched squirrely girlies will make you a little grouchy. As we got older he always believed in us. He may not have agreed with what we wanted to do, but he never stood in the way. He was present at every choir concert, drama competition, basketball game, softball game, orchestra concert, cheerleading competition and anything else we were involved in. He was our #1 fan. I can still see him shaking his head as I would look up into the stands, grin and start "BHS oh yes!" His imitation of this cheer is still a favorite memory.
When I went to college and began working full time I really realized the sacrifices he had made for our family. I just worked and went to school, he did this while raising two girls and caring for his wife. That thought still baffles me.
When Stephen asked Dad if he could marry me, Dad quickly replied "well I guess she could do worse." I am not sure this eased Stephen's nerves at all, but it was typical Dad to be sarcastic in these situations as a way to try to lighten the mood. He was so happy the day we got married and I can see him holding my arm as we walked down the aisle.
My favorite role to experience him in was that of "Dano". To announce our pregnancy, we took Wrigley with us to Christmas at their house wearing a shirt that had the words "only child" marked out. When we walked in, Dad was the first to see her and said "You are getting another dog?!" When he realized what was actually happening tears streamed down his face. The morning she was born, I called them at 5 in the morning to catch him before he went to work. When he answered I said "it's Olive's birthday! She's coming!" I could feel the pure joy pulsing from the phone!! The love he had for Olive oozed out of every pore in his body. Everybody he came in contact with knew about Olive and was likely shown her picture. He took every opportunity to come to Norman and see her even after he was sick. I think it's fitting the last day she saw him was Father's Day. Writing this, tears are falling down my face because as precious as the memories of the two of them are, the reality that Nora Kate never had that opportunity is all too real. I HATE this for her. He would have loved her just as much. I know this is why God gave her his blue eyes. It was his way of connecting them. That and her orneriness, that's a pretty clear connection as well.
To say that my Dad was one of a kind would be an understatement. I am so thankful for the lessons he thought me, the memories I have and the genetics that make me so much like him.
Happy Birthday Dad! I love and miss you everyday, but especially today. The day that you began.
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