To the Editor,
I wrote a letter to the editor about Mothers, so guess I should write one about Fathers. All thought I never did call my Dad Father. I always called him Dad. And I always spelled the word with a capital D. And he was always a great Dad. From the time I first remember him, until his health went he worked so hard!! I remember this. Especially in the winter time. For many years he cut wood for three heaters to keep us warm. The stove that we cooked on. The fire place. We had a big heater, in the big bed room where Mom and Dad slept.
I remember Dad saying I am not going to cut wood for the heater in the bed room. I am going to sell that stove and we can use an extra blanket. Could put the stove back in any time as the chimney is still on the roof. Grady and I put in an insert in the fire place so probably don't use half the wood that Dad did. And of course back years ago Dad cut wood the hard way. No the men now days are not half the man they were years ago. I told my five brothers that. And one agreed with me. The others became a bit up set. But I still feel that way!!!
One of the great tragics of this age is so many children do not know their Dads. Just so many thousands dead bead dads around. Don't seem to know how much happiness they are missing. I know about that first hand. Oh yes I gave my three children a great Dad. If he could have just put down the tobacco.
I shall finish this letter with a funny happening about my Dad. We were making sorghum one fall. I shall write about that some time. As those were wild days. Dad was smoking a corn cob pipe one day (or thought he was smoking a corn cob pipe). The bowl had fallen off and Dad was just chewing on the stem. Dad did that for a few hours before he noticed what was going on. Could not figure out what us children were laughing about. Mom thought that was so funny, that Dad didn't know the bowl had fallen off.
Irma Houts Epps
Poplar Bluff