19. At the End of His Day

19.  At the End of His Day

 “As for man, his days are like grass; As a flower of the field, so he flourishes.  The wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more.” (Psalm 103:15-16 KJ)

Daddy lived for 92 years in an amazing time in history.  Born in the 19th century, his life spanned from the first flight of the Wright brothers airplane, to seeing live on TV,  the first man step on the moon.  In his youth, his family traveled by horse and buggy, and he eventually drove home in a Buick LeSabre.

Daddy was an amazing man.  He was gentle, honest, kind to everyone, he trusted people because he was trustworthy.  A few times he was taken advantage of.  I never heard him raise his voice.  Daddy was generous to everyone.  He did tax returns for neighbors, mostly free of charge. 

He volunteered for the Michigan National Guard, and was deployed as a medic to Germany in WWI. Wounded and decorated with a Purple Heart medal, I’d call Daddy a hero.  He rarely spoke of wartime experiences.

Daddy was faithful to go to church and Sunday school; we were the Sunday school orchestra, with Daddy playing his violin, Mom on the piano, Jan played sax, and I my trumpet.

Daddy was indeed a “flower” who flourished in his day.  Now he is gone, and I wanted to be sure that he would be remembered.   I promised my sister Jan that I would write, “Memories of Daddy.”  I regret that it took so long, and that I can’t send her a copy.  I hope she can read it from where she is, and know that our memories of Daddy has been written as promised, to be passed on to future generations.

Robert Z. Hicks, 2020

16. The Red Tomato Caper

16.  The Red Tomato Caper

What am I doing crawling on my hands and knees in the dirt in the middle of the night?  I was following Daddy, with Mom behind me as we snuck into our neighbors garden sometime after midnight.  I hoped their dog didn’t discover us – he was a big dog and I knew he slept outdoors.

Early in the spring, Daddy and I had visited the Yonans who had the apple orchard just south of us.  Narsai Yonan always had a big garden, and Daddy wanted to see what he had planted early.  Narsai was showing us his tomato plants which were growing nicely.  “I’ll have a ripe tomato by the Fourth of July,” he announced proudly.

Daddy countered, “Really?  I’ll bet you five dollars you don’t have one ripe by the 4th.”  Narsai accepted the bet.

So here we were, crawling in Yonan’s garden the night of July 3rd, looking for a tomato!  There were lots of big green tomatoes, and none were ripe, which was exactly what Daddy wanted.  While I held the flashlight, Mom painted a big green tomato a bright red with her nail polish.  Mission accomplished – we went home.

The next day we went down and called on Narsai.  Daddy said, “we came to see who won the tomato bet.”  There were no ripe tomatoes in the garden south of the house.  Finally, Narsai led us to the place where he spotted the red tomato, and picked it.  Daddy, with a straight face declared, “Well Narse, it looks like you win the bet,  and handed him five dollars.”  Narsai looked a little bewildered, but played along with the joke and took the money.  We went home, laughing all the way.

Daddy was a fun loving guy, and always came up with good things to laugh about.

15. Daddy the Joker

15.   Daddy the Joker

One of my mail order purchases required a $10.00 money order, so I went to the bank and bought it.  The clerk who helped me was a lady I knew from church, so we were chatting about the choir, and other things when she printed out the money order.

At home, as I prepared an envelope to send for the mail order, I noticed the money order didn’t look quite right – too many zeros. So, I called out to Mom and Daddy, asking if they always put so many zeros on money orders.  It read, $1,000,000.00.

Oops, the lady at the bank had misplaced the decimal point! 

I said, “Wow, we better take this back to the bank and get a correct one.  Daddy said, “No, let me have it, I want to have some fun first.”  That night, Daddy reported going into the diner he frequented and ordering a cup of coffee.  Then he asked the owner if he could cash a money order for him. “Sure,” the man said.  He took the money order check and headed for the cash register, suddenly stopped and came back to Daddy.  “Hey Bob, this is for a million dollars!”  Daddy was laughing, and quipped, “You don’t have that much in your cash register?”  He explained the mistake I am sure.

Next, Daddy took the money order to the post office and asked for a roll of stamps. The clerk was the husband of the lady at the bank who gave me the million dollar money order.  When Daddy explained where the money order came from, he was just a little concerned that his wife would get in trouble.  I’m sure Daddy reassured him we would not make a fuss.

Finally, Daddy took the money order back to the lady at the bank, who was aghast at her mistake, and relieved to make the exchange.  Enough fun for one day, Daddy brought me the $10.00 money order so I could finish my purchase order.

14. Deputy Daddy

14.   Deputy Daddy

When I was very young, I liked to pretend I was an Indian, and try to walk silently through grass or in the barn. One day, “Indian Bobby” crept into the barn.  Stepping down into the cattle part of the barn, I carefully avoided walking on the planks because they would rattle.  As I approached the door leading to the big barn, I heard voices.  That’s strange, I thought, no one is working at the farm.  No one should be in the barn.

I peeked through the door.  No one was in sight, but the voices were coming from under the barn floorboards.  “Indian Bobby” carefully retraced his way out of the barn, and ran as fast as I could to the house.  I told Mom about the men hiding under the barn floor, and she called Daddy, who called the sheriff.  Daddy arrived first and got his 10 gauge shotgun, then followed the sheriff’s deputy to the barn as backup.

Daddy shared later that the deputy was skeptical of my story, especially when there was no one under the floor.  But, he condescended to climb the high ladder to look in the loft over the sheep shed.  Daddy laughed and told us that the deputy almost dropped his gun, trying to get it out when he saw the two men were there.

They had rifles stolen from the sport shop a half mile south of us the night before.  They were two young guys who had escaped from the medium security prison outside of Ionia the day before.   With no food, and getting dirty, and tired from running, they decided to give up peacefully.

13. Fishing with Daddy

13.  Fishing with Daddy

I felt Daddy’s hand shaking my shoulder, and opened one eye in the dark room.  “It’s 5:30” he whispered, “time to go.”  I snapped awake; we were going fishing; just Daddy and me!  We had acquired bamboo poles and worms at the sports shop the day before, and Daddy had his old tackle box full of hooks and lures.

We went to Woodard Lake, a small lake not far from where we live, where Daddy had arranged for a row boat.  We anchored not far from shore, and dropped our baited lines in the water.  Almost immediately, we started catching fish; small bluegills, all too small to keep. 

Across the lake, we could see another fisherman pulling them in and keeping them.  “He knows where the fish are, he lives here.”  After he left, we rowed to the spot where he had been.  Not one bite!  The fish had moved on.  Later when we were leaving, the man came around and told us he had caught more than the limit, would we like some?  Yes!  At least we had fish to take home and fresh fish for dinner.

Daddy and I went fishing one more time at Long Lake.  Long Lake was much bigger than Woodard, and had more and bigger fish.  Daddy rented a rowboat at the pavilion, and we rowed along the shore until we were away from waterfront cottages.  Then Daddy stood up in the tippy rowboat to cast for bass.  I sat in the rear of the boat frantically trying to balance the rolling boat so we wouldn’t tip over, or Daddy fall overboard.  Fishing was supposed to be fun, not frightening, so I never asked to go again.  We never caught any fish anyhow.

Fishing did not catch my interest, and Daddy didn’t seem enthused, so our fishing trips turned out to be a passing father-son time together.

12. The Chicken Tragedy

12.  The Chicken Tragedy 

In 1943 Daddy answered an ad to make money raising chickens for food for the army.  The company supplied baby chicks and brooder huts.  We were to feed and raise the chickens three months to edible size, and then the company would buy them back.  It was win-win, help the war effort, and make some money.

The truck arrived with three men to build the huts.  One of the men had one arm, and I was fascinated to watch him stick a nail in the Celotex, a fiber board, then whip up his hammer to drive it through with one blow.  The huts were small, and seemed to be placed haphazardly wherever the material came off the truck.  There were half a dozen huts back of the chicken coop and shop, and several randomly placed south of the driveway by the maple tree.  A small kerosene stove provided heat in each hut.

The chicks arrived, and we were in business.  I think there were 1000 chicks, 100 in each hut.  Daddy carried chick feed around, and my job was to keep water in the tray in each hut.

March, 1943, a late winter storm swept across Lake Michigan with strong winds blowing snow, and freezing temperatures.  A freak 100 year storm they said.  Daddy braved the blizzard several times during the night to check, but the wind blew the heaters out, and the cheap fiber board was not meant to keep out freezing temperatures.

Next morning, I will never forget the drained and forlorn look on Daddy’s face as he carried bushel baskets of dead chicks to dispose of them.  It was a total loss. The huts set empty for several years until Daddy dismantled them. 

Daddy grew up on a farm, and understood the vicious nature of the weather. But like the strong man written about in the Bible, 2 Corinthians, 4:9, “…cast down, but not destroyed,” he grieved in silence awhile, then moved on with his life.

11. Appleseed Corners Fireworks & Fox Hunt

11.  Appleseed Corners Fireworks & Fox Hunt

The Hicks family always bought fireworks for the Fourth of July holiday.  It was an exciting and fun time shooting roman candles, pop-bottle rockets and crackers of all sizes.  We were very disappointed when the State of Michigan outlawed fireworks, and considered getting some out of state, but breaking the law was not our kind of solution.

Then Daddy discovered that fireworks could be purchased for “community display,” and he officially organized the “Appleseed Corners Community” consisting of the Hicks, Yonans and Yeoman’s families — our neighbors. Walter Yeomans was a crop farmer, and the Yonans had a large commercial apple orchard. Their orchard and our small orchard across the road from them was the basis for the “Appleseed Corners” name. They joined us for a back porch barbecue of hot dogs and hamburgers, and legal fireworks on the Fourth of July – what fun!

Walter Yeomans probably knew Daddy had been trapping muskrats in our pond, and selling the pelts.  He asked Daddy if he thought the traps might be big enough to catch a fox that was nosing around his chicken coop.  If so, could he borrow a couple? 

Sure.  Of course.  But, now that a fox was brought up, Daddy said he had seen a hole under a big tree at the back of our property across the road and adjacent to the Yeoman’s that very well could be the fox’s den.  Daddy exclaimed, “We can get him there!”  The Appleseed Corners fox hunt idea must have sprung into his mind – and planning began.  A date set, Daddy called and invited the Yonans to join us, I think Alan came too.  Mom and Daddy, Walter and Lucille, Nars and Olive, and me, Bobby, were the total company for the “hunt”. 

I may have been 9 or 10, because I faintly recall having my bugle and blowing “Attention” as we gathered in our driveway and piled into a pickup truck and one car.  Daddy had his 10 gauge shotgun, and instructed everyone to be very quiet. 

After driving down the lane to about thirty yards from the tree, we dismounted, and Daddy waved at Walter to follow him as he moved toward the big tree – the others followed at a distance.  As Daddy rounded the tree he fired his shotgun at the base, and yelled, “I got him!  Walter – grab him, he’s going down the hole!” Walter was quick to respond and leaped to the hole at the base of the tree – saw the fox tail protruding – and grabbed it – yanked it hard – and then stood there holding Mom’s fox fur neckpiece high in the air!

Daddy was laughing uproariously, and the others joined in as the reality of the joke hit Walter.  I think he finally broke down and started laughing too.  Daddy had gotten Mom’s fur piece, left over from the fashions of the ‘20s, from the trunk in the attic, and put it in the hole at the base of the tree the day before.

The “Great Appleseed Corners Fox Hunt” was over, and I presume considered a huge success by everyone… except maybe Walter.

Did Walter trap the fox?  I don’t know.  But for sure, the fox never returned to the big tree!

10. Pheasant Hunt

10.   Pheasant Hunt

After I was presented with my 4-10 shotgun, Daddy suggested we go pheasant hunting.  I was certainly excited to go hunting with Daddy!

We crossed the highway and walked slowly through the tall grass in the field on the east side of our property.  Daddy carried his 10 gauge shotgun over his shoulder.  As I had been taught, I kept my gun carefully pointed safely at the ground in front of my feet.

Suddenly, a pheasant burst from the thick grass a few feet in front of me.  Startled, I jerked back, firing the gun!  The bird dropped dead, a direct hit!  I had accidentally bagged a prime rooster pheasant.

That night, as we enjoyed dinner, we had to carefully spit out the bee-bee shot in the bird meat.  Daddy said to me, “Robbie, next time let the bird get further away before you shoot.”  I said “sure”, but I was too embarrassed to tell him my shot was not on purpose, but an accident of my being startled.

I just enjoyed the compliments for bagging a pheasant on my first hunting trip.

After seeing the beautiful dead bird, and thinking how easy it was to accidentally fire a gun, I decided hunting was not for me.  We never went hunting again.

9. Daddy the Medic

9.   Daddy the Medic

One hot summer day I asked Mom and Daddy to take me to Woodard Lake for a quick cool-off swim.  Woodard Lake was the closest place that had a swimming pavilion.

When we got there, I was dismayed that the place, bar and all, was closed and deserted.  The shallow water swimming area was fenced with chicken wire, but with Daddy’s approval, I climbed the fence and enjoyed showing off my swimming ability, and getting cool.

Then I put my foot down.  Ouch!  I stepped on a broken beer bottle and cut a big deep gash in my foot.  I clinched my teeth, and climbed back over the wire fence, bleeding profusely.

During the short ride home, I was in the back seat, with my leg up, and holding my foot as tight as I could.  Still bleeding profusely, I asked if we were going to the hospital.  Mom said, “no, Daddy was a medic in the army, he’ll fix it at home,”

At home, Daddy cut a “butterfly” fastener out of adhesive tape, and fastened the edges of my cut tightly together.  Then he wrapped my foot in gauze bandage which quickly turned red with the oozing blood.  Daddy said, “Don’t worry, it will stop soon.

I did worry, but the bleeding stopped, and the foot healed.  Daddy to the rescue!

8. Life-Saving Rescue

8.   Life-Saving Rescue

I did a lot of “pretend” games when I was seven or eight and playing alone on Grandpa’s farm. One day I was playing “Commando” climbing in the big maple tree across the driveway from the kitchen door of the house.

My Commando popgun rifle was strapped over my shoulder as I climbed down from the tree. I had to slide through a forked branch and then drop to the ground. When I slid by the branch, my hand slipped and the popgun caught in the fork, with the shoulder strap around my neck. I was trapped! I would be strangled if I let go of the branch! My mind raced as I tried to pull myself up enough to free my neck from the strap tight around my throat.

By God’s provision, Daddy was passing through the kitchen.  He looked out the screen door, and saw my plight.  He slammed through the door, leaped off the porch, and ran to wrap his arms around my legs and lift me up so I could get the gun strap off. Daddy lowered me to the ground, and said calmly, “No more tree climbing today.”

Daddy saved my life!

 (The tree in the picture is the tree where this experience occurred.)