Today I reflect on my father and his positive impact upon my
life. My father is a man of few words; he lives by example. He has
always worked hard and continues to work in his early 80s in
addition to his gardening and work around the house.
Me as a toddler with my dad.
When the four of us (my three sisters and I) were growing up,
our dad was often working overtime at a furniture factory, where he
was a quality inspector. After working all day at the factory, we
would work well after dark with our crops for extra money to have a
nice Christmas holiday. Dad would allow us kids to play sports in
school or pursue other activities, other than that, we were to work
with him in the field. I think now that the "work unless you
participate in the community" rule was a way for us to become
involved, learn success as well as failure, and realize the
necessity of getting along with others.
When I was growing up as a youngster, I always felt safe with
Dad in the house. Some of my earliest memories are sitting on his
lap learning to read "Little Golden Books" well before entering
kindergarten. The amazing thing is that a man with an
8th grade education (as well as my Mom) saw the
immense value of learning to read…early. I remember Dad teaching me
about raising chickens, tending a garden, fixing up our old cars as
a teenager (not so much there, I was too stubborn to listen unless
I needed his help). Finally, the project that I will cherish for
the remainder of my life--the weekend that we built a bookcase
together in my late 20s.
The bookcase as it stands in my apartment now, full of medical
books and doo-dads!
I didn't realize the importance of that project at the time. I
never liked woodworking much and Dad and I weren't exactly close at
that point in our lives. No animosity, we are just both
strong-willed and somewhat stubborn men and each had our idea of
how to live as an adult. We spent the entire weekend working
cooperatively on the bookcase from only a hand-drawn sketch. No
griping, arguing over measurements, or creative disagreements--just
a vision and the beauty of the finished project--both the bookcase
project and our relationship as adults. I've never told Dad how
much that project meant, I reckon I will someday.
Dad's (and again Mom's) insistence that we kids learn to read
when we were just "young'uns" has stayed with my sisters and me.
For myself, I think the fun of reading with my Dad translated into
a passion for the written word and a thirst for learning that has
me here, at NUHS on my third career! Believe me, we get our share
of reading here!
Dad in his garden last year.
Now, as an older student at NUHS, I try to share the lessons
that my dad taught me, through example, by living as an expression
of his work ethic, sharing, patience, understanding, and guidance
where I can with my colleagues and friends. His lesson of
'leveling' the highs of success and lows of failure has been
perhaps the most applicable lesson while here in med
I am grateful for my father, his work ethic and insistence that
his children learn in areas he never did. I am grateful for my
father's appreciation of all human beings, creatures and kindness
toward others. I am grateful every day that I am the son of Roscoe
Ammons of Mars Hill, North Carolina.