My father passed away last week. He had turned 95 on October 31. Below are the thoughts I shared at the funeral.
Ninety-five years is a long time. Trivia: 95 years is the length of time before a song or book or work of art loses its copyright protection and becomes “public domain.”
His name was Robert Lee Ivey. Most people knew him as Bob. He loved to tell stories of growing up in southern Oklahoma around Bailey and Rush Springs. He never lived more than 100 miles from the place of his birth. His uncle Tom Miller lived with my Dad’s family when he was growing up. He would tease my Dad, calling him “Bob-tail Horse.” My Dad didn’t like that. “Call me Robert,” he’d say. So Uncle Tom called him “Robert-tail Horse.”
It was the Great Depression and they were very poor. Most of the time they didn’t even have motorized farm machinery: no tractors, no combines, no harvester. They were farming by mule power. My dad grew up milking cows by hand and picking cotton by hand.
Then, in 1944, Uncle Sam gave my Dad a paid vacation to Europe. He went to England, France, Belgium and finally Germany. During World War II my Dad was a tank mechanic. He didn’t always want to talk about what he saw during the war, but once in a while he would slip up and tell a story. I guess you haven’t lived until you’ve lain on your back in the snow under a Sherman Tank with a wrench in your hand with German bullets bouncing off the armor during the Battle of the Bulge.
My Dad’s parents didn’t have a telephone, so he went two years without talking to them while he was gone to war.
So, one thing my Dad taught me was that sometimes you have to do things that are unpleasant, but you do your duty.
My Dad’s passion was music. He was known my many as the man with the Hawaiian steel guitar. He even taught steel guitar soon after returning from the war. It was the time between the attack on Pearl Harbor and Hawaiian statehood. It’s ironic that many years later, my daughter and her husband would move to Hawaii to join the non-denominational mission organization Youth With A Mission (YWAM) and my wife and I would follow three years ago.
My Dad was my first music teacher. He taught me ukulele, then guitar and he taught me to read notes. Music has given me lifelong satisfaction. I even minored in music and still like to write, listen to and play music. My Dad taught me that.
My Dad’s other passion was cars. He brought a love for mechanical things home with him from the war. Only once did my Dad buy a new car. He could always buy used and keep them maintained. He tried desperately to impart to me his aptitude for mechanics, but I was a terrible student. But I did catch his love for automobiles and I watch all the TV shows about fixing cars, restoring cars, etc., even if I can’t do any of that. My Dad measured his life by the cars he drove. He could say, “I know that was 1961 because we were driving the 1955 Oldsmobile 88,” and he’d be right.
My Dad also taught me the value of hard work. For 31 years he worked as an accountant for Standard Oil of Ohio (SOHIO – now part of BP). Accounting was NOT his passion, but he did a good job and worked hard. He worked many overtime hours to put me through college. He retired early, but he wasn’t going to sit around. He started a business, fixing lawn mowers, trimmers and chainsaws. He was too honest and too generous to get rich doing it.
I’m also an entrepreneur. My wife and I have had a business for 21 years. One of the things some of our clients have said is, “They do what they say they will do.” That might not sound like much, but in this world there are a lot of people who will tell you they will do something, then they don’t follow through. Doing what you say is a big deal. I think it’s called Integrity. Always do what you say. My Dad taught me that.
My Dad and I was different in that I read everything I can get my hands on, whereas my Dad wasn’t much of a reader. He did read the Bible, though, and taught a class at the Oklahoma City Central Seventh-day Adventist Church for many years. He brought me up to respect the Bible and the God of the Bible and our Savior, Jesus Christ. My Dad taught me that.
At the last, when he hardly knew anyone, including me, it was still obvious that he loved my Mom. They were together for 70 years. It was a great blessing in my life that it never occurred to me to wonder if Mom and Dad would stay together. I was never afraid they might divorce. Next month my wife and I will celebrate 45 years of marriage and I couldn’t imagine anything else.
My Dad taught me that.
