My
1st conscious memory of my father
Well this is the 1st memory that I have of
my dad. I asked him about it before he passed in the 70’s and he let me know that it was
the truth I was surprised that I remembered it.
I was about 4 years old, sitting on the porch. My dad came out with one
of those twin Popsicles he gave me half and went inside the house with the other half. My excited four year
old self ran down the porch and tripped dropping the Popsicle in the sand. I wasn’t worried there was a faucet right there
and I could wash it off. Unlearned in
the sciences I was shocked to see my beautiful Popsicle disintegrate under the
stream of water. I sat there looking at the empty Popsicle stick and began to
cry. Sobs at first, but it grew to a full-fledged wail of pain and
disappointment. My dad came out and asked
“what’s the matta son” and I just pointed to the Popsicle stick and just bawled
even more. I looked up and my dad had this
look on his face. I was surprised because he was smiling. He wasn’t laughing, but he
had this look that said to me. “Son as long as I’m here I will take care of you
and not to worry” he didn’t speak a word but it was a look of total
understanding and the thought I felt was I got this covered. He then went into the
house and came out with the other half of the Popsicle. To ensure that this did
not repeat he let me sit on his lap and let me finish the Popsicle. He gave me
that understanding look. The amazing thing about this memory is I remembered
it when Dad dropped me off at the dorms when I was 17 at Cal State University
Fullerton. He worked 2 jobs to pay for my dormitory and meal fees. I saw this
man cry for the third time in my life. The
first time was for our dog Coley he was getting old and was unable to walk well but
always was near us when we played in the back yard. It hurt dad to have to put him down. The second time was after
his second heart attack. I was about 6 or 7 years old. He was off for almost a
month. He didn’t hear me but I sat outside the door listening. He was praying. He was asking God for 10 more years to see us
grow up into good men, he was asking more time. The third time was walking to his car
from the dorms and I heard him thank God for granting his request. I was
looking out the window and heard him sobbing “Thank you Jesus my son is in College”. I got married the next year he was smiling
from ear to ear when I went down to the altar.
My father died later that year. He had a massive stroke and died in the hospital
I awoke from dead sleep and said DAD!!! My wife asked what was wrong and I said
Dad just died I know it. While making preparations for the funeral I got to see
the death certificate October 26 1975 at 1:05 AM. The exact moment that I was
awakened from sleep. I know my father
worked hard entering the United States Army in 1942. Was a Heavy Machine Gunner
of 600th Field Artillery Battalion of the 92nd division of the US 3rd
Army. I never saw him without something to do. He was busy doing something all
the time. I believe the thought of him stuck in a bed without the ability to
communicate or move was too much and he just went home. I think of my father often (daily) and if I can
dig up the picture I look just like him. I have his temper, and his foibles. He pushed
me to do well in school. I learned later the importance of this when training
for my second career as an IT specialist. (Because I was paying the bill for it.) The funny thing is that I am reminded of him
when I talk to my grand-kids. I oft times
open my mouth and Eugene Oliver Crawford comes out. I just smile and know he lives on in me and my
offspring. Some by birth and some by osmosis.
Love YA DADDY
Eugene Oliver Crawford
Born December 7 1908
Died Oct 26 1975
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