Seeking Dad Among the Dead

Now that I am older, I wish I had listened more closely to the things that my parents said about themselves and their parents and had remembered them. So much history and wisdom was lost in my youth. I don’t believe that I ever learned how my grandparents met, fell in love, and became building blocks in my life. It is like the mortar that cements those thoughts is missing. How much more complete that wall would have been.

I didn’t ask those kind of questions as a child because it wasn’t proper> I didn’t ask how my parents met either, but I know my dad, Edson Carl Beck bought an Indian motorcycle on his return from serving in the Army during WW II. He was stationed in Australia, the Philippines, and visited Hiroshima. My mom Sybil June Miner worked at Resh’s Red & White store in Indian Head, Pennsylvania. One day as she walked home, a guy on a motorcycle sped by, grabbed the sleeve of her coat, tore it, and sped off. She blamed my dad and he vehemently denied it. They didn’t say much else about the dating.

Mom did share some of the places that they lived and some of the antics of newlyweds, but the meat of those stories have faded and become woefully thin. A water battle at the honeymoon cottage and the shrieking that worried the neighbors, a tug of war under a bed, and a night sleeping in the bathtub seem almost too nondescript to share without the details. Details that made my mom laugh and my dad smile.

Although my wife-to-be, Cynthia Louise Morrison lived less than 5 miles from my home, we met at a wedding. It was the first wedding I’d ever attended and was the best man for my cousin Alan Bottomly. She was an usherette and greeter. At the reception, I was my abnormal self and teased her, even hiding her shoes. Guests thought we were already dating, but no. It took one of her friends arranging a blind date to start the ball rolling. Although my wedding antics said otherwise, I was quite shy and that is hard to believe even now.

Much of what I record in my BlogSpot stories is to capture some of these moments before they disappear and are forgotten. I don’t want my children seeking information of their mom or dad among the dead.