The unsung heroics of dads

Say what you will about family values and the importance of male role models for children this Father's Day. Opine all you want about sentimentality, and about how dads are "always there" for their offspring.

I say this Father's Day, let's really confess why we need Dads in our lives.

They're the family general contractors.

Let's face it, if fathers weren't around, who would do all the yucky and slightly nutso jobs around the house and farm?

Take my father, for example. He isn't by any stretch of the definition a daredevil. Yet, every time there is a job around the homestead that is the least bit dangerous my mother volunteers him for duty quicker than you can say Selective Service.

If it required a ladder or the use of a gun, or involved snakes, rodents or pigs, my father was the first responder in our household. My childhood was a constant refrain of Mom yelling, "You let your father do that, you'll get hurt," from across the cattle pen. I'm sure Dad was really excited about being volunteered for halterbreaking duty with the 4-H heifers--why didn't we just save time and call ahead to the emergency room?

But, it didn't stop with just the hazardous duties. Dad always got the raw end of the chores, too. He was the garbage man and the go-to guy for plumbing clogs, backed up garbage disposals, random carpentry jobs, and the inevitable dead animal disposal work that happens around a farm. Bug killing was a specialty he perfected early on in his fatherhood career--just ask him about the wasp he zapped in Mom's new microwave. And, he was particularly talented at mouse trap evacuation, spider smooshing, and all manner of pooper-scooper-ing.

Dad was required to constantly come up with creative solutions to fix things around the farm, or to bail one of us kids out of trouble. One time he fixed my bucket calf's broken leg with a length of PVC pipe and duct tape--Dad's motto being that there isn't anything that can't be fixed with duct tape, baling wire, WD-40 or a spot weld. In fact, if the project was special enough he'd even break out the shiny new baling wire fresh from the role, rather than scrounging up a rusted piece out of the back of his pickup. That's love, right there.

Let's not forget the countless hours he's spent as both a tow truck operator and full-time mechanic on duty. Dad's an old pro at towing all manners of broken down vehicles from the unlikeliest of places. And, he did so without asking the petty questions such as, "Just exactly how did the car end up in a flooded roadside ditch outside of town?" or, "Where did that ding come from?" If we actually tallied it up, my father should be compensated for more than a million dollars in oil changes, tire rotations, electrical wiring work, body repair and towing fees.

And, grunt work? What rural Dad hasn't had to stop in the middle of baling a field of alfalfa, with rain on the horizon, to pack a gooseneck trailer with livestock, feed and supplies for the county fair? By the end of my 4-H career, my father had almost 20 years of 4-H parenthood under his belt, and can pack a trailer for a show in under 30 minutes blindfolded. He's also served as a furniture mover, a rental house inspector, and a used car advisor. Oh, and we can't omit his personal mission to intimidate the living beejeebers out of any first date my sister or I brought home. He may be wirey, but Dad can make a grown man cringe like a Border Collie staring down a cull bull calf at cutting time.

And, for all of these duties, what does Dad get in return? An occasional batch of brownies, a new tie, maybe that new air compressor he's wanted for the shop, and a card if he's really lucky.

For all of his thankless responsibilities though, perhaps the greatest duty my father ever did was to show me how to be an independent woman. And, while I can change my own oil and kill my own bugs I still wish Dad was around to do that occasionally.

I'd even bust out the extra-gooey brownie mix just for him.

Jennifer M. Latzke can be reached by phone at 620-227-1807, or by e-mail at jlatzke@hpj.com.

Date: 6/14/06

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