Happy Fathers Day

Father's Day 2008

In my first Father's Day I would like to pay tribute to the best Dad I know--John Crumrine. Anyone who knows me well also knows that Dad and I don't always see things the exact same way. But disagreement doesn't mean disrespect and if there is anyone in my life that I respect and honor it is my Dad.

When I think of my Dad one of the first things that always comes to mind is a quote he sometimes used when I was growing up. This was always delivered after I did something exceedingly dumb . (My Mom actually said at one point that I messed up really big one time a year rather than the normal teen pattern of messing up early and often--but this is about Dad.) His quote was, "One boy = a whole brain, Two boys = 1/2 a brain, Three boys = 1/4 of a brain and Four boys = no brain at all." At the time he told me that his dad had passed the saying along to him. And at the time I had just gotten into trouble with 3 other boys--totally proving the four boy-no brain theorem.

I think of my Dad more and more every year. Most likely because with each passing year I realize we are much more alike than we are different. As I chop wood to heat our home like Dad did for us, as I mow the yard or even as I shovel large amounts of dirt. That's right--even when I shovel dirt. Shoveling dirt is something that my Dad and I know well. Recently I moved a large birm on the side of our driveway to the back of the house. The birm was about 4 feet above the driveway surface so it was like shoveling a pile of dirt the size of an elephant to the back of the house. I thought about renting a tractor to do this but with the thought of my Dad in mind I figured I would just shovel it. So over the course of about 5 nights I moved the pile--I looked at it as good exercise.

This is nothing compared to what Dad is capable of. Many summers ago he decided that he would like to fill in the old swimming pool at their house. Some would have hired someone to do it, others might have rented a back hoe but my Dad chopped up the surrounding concrete with a sledge and filled in the whole thing with soil. I think he said something about it all being good exercise.

I suppose this connection to soil makes sense. Dad was trained to know water but after moving to Ohio farmland he became and expert on soil so he could help area farmers. I still remember him taking a correspondence course and reading his big book of soil. He always tried to get my sister and I interested in the kinds of silt and loam but I don't think either one of us took too much interest in it. I always loved how excited he was about it when he was telling us about the difference between that patch of brown and the patch of darker brown right next to it. And he really knew the geologic and local reasons why they were different. Even though I'm sure I said something teenagerish at the time I distinctly remember thinking, "Hunh--interesting," inside.

This excitement of explanation is something that I try to emulate in my teaching. When I wade into a river with a group of students, pick up a rock and explain why there is a stonefly on the bottom of that rock--I'm thinking a little bit of how Dad might explain it. And I have even picked up some of the things that my Dad used to do. He can tell what kind of tree something is just by looking at its bark and the twigs. And I don't mean just 4 kinds of trees--I mean every tree we ever ran across. As I've gotten older, and especially with all the hiking I do, I have found that I really like trying to identify trees this way too. I'm no where near as good--yet--but it is fun. And just like my Dad I enjoy telling students what tree is what even if they aren't really listening to me. I know they will appreciate it someday.

As my Dad moves to his third retirement and all kinds of travelling around the country to see grandkids I want him to know that I appreciate it today. I am who I am because of him and I'm very exctied about being exactly the same kind of Dad for Amelia that he was for me.

Happy Father's Day