Over the weekend, I visited the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center in Austin, TX. It was early in the season for flowers, but the sculptures and grandsons were interesting. See for yourselves.
It's a good thing I didn't fall down backwards. I would have been goosed for sure.
Merry Christmas
9 hours ago
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
In Memoriam – Johnie Junior Rackley, 1933-1992
On this day, eighteen years ago, Dad succumbed to cancer. The memories of his death are still fresh in my mind. I was there at his bedside along with other family members, and we watched him depart for greener pastures. After 10 years of remission, the disease returned with a vengeance, attacking vital organs and rendering his body helpless. It was a sad day. However, the legacy that Dad left is reason to celebrate. For without that legacy, I would not be the person that I am today.
Dad and I were close. He taught me to hunt and fish and to drive. He also taught the more important aspects of life – compassion, generosity, and hospitality, respect of others, love of God and family, duty to country, and a strong work ethic. Dad was all these and more.
His gregarious personality led him into sales for most of his adult life. In the early days he drove a Dr. Pepper route, delivering cases of the bottled drink to little towns all over eastern Oklahoma. The work was hard, the hours were long, and the KC Love Bottling Company appreciated his efforts. His talent in sales was recognized, and Dad was hired by the National Life and Accident Insurance Company. As an agent, he was responsible for selling new policies and for collecting the weekly and monthly premiums from the existing accounts. The hours were still long, but Dad persevered and was rewarded. He was promoted to staff manager. With the promotion came a new territory, and on my last day of class in the first grade, Dad moved us from Oklahoma to a little town in central Arkansas. Success brought more responsibility, and eventually, another move to a little larger, small town, Fort Smith, Arkansas.
For whatever reasons, economic, political, or changes in big business, the insurance business dried-up, and Dad sought employment elsewhere. There were some lean financial years. I remember teary-eyed discussions between Mom and Dad, but cannot recall any lack of love. Dad remained strong throughout those years and became a successful job placement advisor for what would become a large professional services firm. However, Dad was not destined to stay behind a desk for long. Being in the job search business, Dad found the perfect job for himself. Soon, he was back on the road as a manufacturing liaison, selling wholesale farm implements to tractor dealers. For Dad, it was interesting work. He would travel from dealer to dealer, attend farm shows, and perform demonstrations at state fairs. During summer breaks from school, my brother and I would travel with Dad. That practice continued until my own son was able to travel with his grandfather. I don’t think I will ever forget the small-town diners that served cheeseburgers, either greasy or extra greasy.
Besides sales, Dad was a storyteller. There were many times, when family and friends would gather at Mom and Dad’s house for a meal and an evening of entertainment. Dad was usually the center of attention, spinning a yarn about a recent event, telling a joke, or just making up stuff. If you have seen the movie, Big Fish, you get the picture. Now that I think back on those days, I realize that in addition to the humor, there was a wealth of wisdom, philosophy of life, and some real character building being taught in those wonderful tales. And, just like in Big Fish, there was much truth interwoven into that nonsense. I am glad I was a witness to those events.
With grandsons of my own, I am proud to be following a path established by a wonderful mentor. Thanks, Dad, for showing me the way.
To close and to celebrate today’s holiday, I offer this gentle yet powerful Irish blessing:
“May your troubles be less. May your blessings be more, and
may nothing but happiness pass through your door."
Amen.
Dad and I were close. He taught me to hunt and fish and to drive. He also taught the more important aspects of life – compassion, generosity, and hospitality, respect of others, love of God and family, duty to country, and a strong work ethic. Dad was all these and more.
His gregarious personality led him into sales for most of his adult life. In the early days he drove a Dr. Pepper route, delivering cases of the bottled drink to little towns all over eastern Oklahoma. The work was hard, the hours were long, and the KC Love Bottling Company appreciated his efforts. His talent in sales was recognized, and Dad was hired by the National Life and Accident Insurance Company. As an agent, he was responsible for selling new policies and for collecting the weekly and monthly premiums from the existing accounts. The hours were still long, but Dad persevered and was rewarded. He was promoted to staff manager. With the promotion came a new territory, and on my last day of class in the first grade, Dad moved us from Oklahoma to a little town in central Arkansas. Success brought more responsibility, and eventually, another move to a little larger, small town, Fort Smith, Arkansas.
For whatever reasons, economic, political, or changes in big business, the insurance business dried-up, and Dad sought employment elsewhere. There were some lean financial years. I remember teary-eyed discussions between Mom and Dad, but cannot recall any lack of love. Dad remained strong throughout those years and became a successful job placement advisor for what would become a large professional services firm. However, Dad was not destined to stay behind a desk for long. Being in the job search business, Dad found the perfect job for himself. Soon, he was back on the road as a manufacturing liaison, selling wholesale farm implements to tractor dealers. For Dad, it was interesting work. He would travel from dealer to dealer, attend farm shows, and perform demonstrations at state fairs. During summer breaks from school, my brother and I would travel with Dad. That practice continued until my own son was able to travel with his grandfather. I don’t think I will ever forget the small-town diners that served cheeseburgers, either greasy or extra greasy.
Besides sales, Dad was a storyteller. There were many times, when family and friends would gather at Mom and Dad’s house for a meal and an evening of entertainment. Dad was usually the center of attention, spinning a yarn about a recent event, telling a joke, or just making up stuff. If you have seen the movie, Big Fish, you get the picture. Now that I think back on those days, I realize that in addition to the humor, there was a wealth of wisdom, philosophy of life, and some real character building being taught in those wonderful tales. And, just like in Big Fish, there was much truth interwoven into that nonsense. I am glad I was a witness to those events.
With grandsons of my own, I am proud to be following a path established by a wonderful mentor. Thanks, Dad, for showing me the way.
To close and to celebrate today’s holiday, I offer this gentle yet powerful Irish blessing:
may nothing but happiness pass through your door."
Amen.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
In Full-Hiss Mode
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