Showing posts with label al croskey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label al croskey. Show all posts

Monday, April 12, 2010

Someday I Hope To Be This Rich


As some of you know, I lost my Dad two weeks ago.  He could no longer go on. His body was broken by cancer. 

He told me many times that I could go to the cemetery if I wanted, but that he would not be there.  He would be with me.  I have to believe that he is, and that he is now guiding my life, and sending me love. 

Dad wanted his children, his wife, and people who cared about him to speak at his service.  It was a difficult thing to write, trying to sum up a man's whole life and influence in a few pages.  It was even harder to read. 

I Want to Share With You the Vast Amount of Wealth that My Dad has Accumulated Over His Lifetime:

Now anyone who knew my Dad would know that I'm not talking about a traditional form of wealth.  In terms of money, that never mattered to my Dad.  As long as he had enough, that was plenty.  In fact, when I think about it, my Dad would have enjoyed it if everyone in this world did a job that they were good at and enjoyed, and everyone just helped each other out. 

If you could see past the grease on his hands, and the manure on his boots, then you could begin to see what my Dad thought was important. 

My Dad was Rich in His Wife, my Mom:

I truly think he was always tickled pink that he found an adventurous girl.  And adventure in my Dad's world took lots of forms.  Sometimes it was taking a trip, sometimes it was taking the slate roof off of a barn, sometimes it was just watching him work, and worrying about his safe return.

My Dad was Rich in His Family:

He always took great pride in his family's history. He liked to talk about his ancestors, and their lives and accomplishments.  He was happy to be a part of a place that has such deep roots. 

He spoke highly of his brother Sam, whom he shared the farm with, and was a brother that took care of him when he was a boy.

He also seemed a bit proud of the 4 of us, in our own ways.  His gift to us was his strong support in whatever we chose to do.  He talked recently about how important it is to love your kids, and let them choose what makes them happy; To choose their own path. He knew that when you liked your work, you were sure to be good at it.  

And Speaking of Work, my Dad was Rich in that too:

He always had more work than he could do.  My Dad never advertised once for his backhoe business.  Word of mouth and reputation spread quickly about the hard working guy who would get it done, and charge a "reasonable" amount. 

The farm work was really a joy to my Dad.  He spoke about how he enjoyed riding the tractor and raking the hay.  He loved his animals and truly cared for them.  He also said that there is no one that enjoys fixing a broken manure spreader. 


My Dad was Also Rich in Knowledge:

Many of you may not know that my Dad read nearly every book in his school's library when he was a student.  He also graduated at the top of his high school class.  He was a straight A student. 

Dad also had the kind of knowledge that can only be gained by figuring things out for yourself.  If something broke, then he fixed it.  As a result, he became handy with a torch, he could weld, and I think he could change a tire in his sleep.  So many broken axles, engine replacements, and flat tires.  I came to know the local roads simply as references for places that my Dad broke something, and had to walk home, or someone gave him a ride.

I was always amazed that my Dad could barely look at a wrench or a bolt, and know exactly what size it was.  As a kid, you couldn't hand him tools fast enough. 

Dad had a good friend, Sammy Davis.  Sammy taught him how to work on transmissions, which were a mystery to him at the time. Sammy would say:" If anyone can do it, then YOU can do it." That really stuck with my Dad, and became something that he would say often. 

And Speaking of Sammy, My Dad was Rich in Friends:

I think my Dad worked at 3 out of 5 houses in Gibsonia, and the surrounding communities.  He sometimes couldn't recall his customer's names, but he could tell you what kind of dirt they had.  Dad be-friended so many of his customers by doing an honest day's work, and charging an honest amount.  He met many people that have meant so much to him.  Some of his friends knew him as "Corn Flakes", and some as "Big Al", but mostly just "Al, the guy with the backhoe, just call him, he'll get it done". 

His lifelong friends provided support to him in a way that only a lifelong friend can.  Bob has been there from the beginning. He was a great friend to the shy kid that my Dad was in High School, and then he introduced his cousin, my Mom, to Dad, and the rest is history. 

Ron Weibel has been a rock through my Dad's working career.  He and his family have supported my Dad, and taken care of him as a true friend. My Mom took comfort when Dad was working with Weibel.  She knew that they'd take care of one another, and that the two of them probably wouldn't get into any kind of trouble that they couldn't get themselves out of. And that was a great relief, because Dad, by himself, couldn't be trusted in that way.


I'll conclude by saying: My Dad embodied the phrase "It is better to give than to receive".  Anyone who has ever received something from my Dad knew that it held value to him, and anyone who ever tried to give my Dad anything can tell you how difficult it was.

I ask you to go forth and give of yourself, that would be an honor to my Dad.






Sunday, March 28, 2010

A Random Act of Kindness For My Dad

A mystery person dropped off a copy of the newspaper at my  parents house this past Thursday.  There was a note, referring to page 2.  

It turns out that one of the hundreds of people that my Dad has helped through the many years wrote a letter about him and submitted it to their "Random Acts of Kindness" column.  

The ironic part is that this guy only knew my Dad for 3 hours.  He didn't know he was sick.  He didn't know that 3 days later,he would be admitted to the hospital for a swollen leg caused by a blood clot. 

Helping this man was my Dad's last "job". The last time he held a shovel in his hands.  It's so fitting that he asked for a handshake as payment.  My Dad has worked like this his whole life.  He regularly underestimates his own knowledge and efforts.  Even when my Mom read this letter to him, he brushed it off, like he didn't see the reason for all of the fuss.  He didn't think he had done anything special.  

My Dad is not well.  Cancer has beaten him down to these last days.  He is a strong man, with a huge heart. I am trying very hard to memorize the green color of his eyes, the size of his hands, the sound of his voice.

Here is a glimpse of who my Dad is:
 
 
 
Random Acts of Kindness: The septic tank savior
Thursday, March 25, 2010
This old fellow just likes lending hand to strangers
"Brian, I'd like to make an appointment to have my septic tank cleaned ..."
"OK Tim, but first, you need to unearth the lid, and I don't know where it is. Find Al K., he installed your system years ago for the previous owners, he'll know where it is."
Sunday after Christmas my house had odors. The ground wasn't frozen, so I started to dig. After an hour I found the top of the tank but no lid. Frustrated, I went to find Al K. I pulled up to his house and a youngish-looking, 70-or-so woman splitting wood greeted me. I apologized for intruding on Sunday and she replied with a huge smile, "No problem, we work every day," as if it were their true joy.
Al was napping in his fifth-generation farmhouse in a rocker, in his work clothes, basking in the sun that streamed through the picture window. I hated to wake him. His wife tapped him on the shoulder.
I told him my plight and he asked, "Is momma still splittin' wood?" I said yes. He replied, "You can't find 'em like that anymore," and then he said, "Let's go take a look at the septic system."
It turns out, Al did not install my system but looked at my progress, and then this 74-year-old stranger grabbed a shovel and started digging. As I ran for another shovel I worried: How much does a septic pro cost on a Sunday? You can ask my friends, I'm cheap that way, I don't know why.
Together we unearthed the lid. He took his time and explained what was going on and checked all the plumbing from the house.
I took him home. We pulled up to his house and he said jokingly, "Looks like momma quit as soon as I left." He wouldn't take any money and explained that he does things for people just to help them, and he asked for a handshake.
We shook hands and I gave him a few sticks of really good kielbasa. I really hope he enjoyed it.
TIM HOPEY, Richland

Read more: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/10084/1045493-294.stm#ixzz0jTZVMQy8