LESSONS OF MY FATHER

Recently I came across some notes for the talk that I gave at my father's funeral. Part of the topic of my talk at the funeral were things that I learned from my father.

A couple of things I learned from Dad was how to sit still while he sawed boards and the words to silly songs that he knew.

When Dad was working on finishing the basement of our home in Arlington, I would sometimes hang around.  If he was sawing 2 x 4's, he'd ask me to sit on the board as it laid across the saw horses.  He told me it was my job to keep the board from moving while he sawed.  As he sawed the 2 x 4's, he'd often sing.  He had quite a repertoire of silly songs that we heard all through our childhood.  I learned the words to most of those songs sitting on the 2 x 4s.  One song that he sang was "Consumptive, Molly Jane".   As best as I remember it, the words are:

Well, she said that she'd meet me, when the clock struck seventeen

at the slaughterhouse, just nine miles out of town.

Where the pig's eyes, and the pig's ears and the tough old  Texas steer

sold as T-bone steaks at nineteen cents a pound.

She's my honey, my baby.  She's cross-eyed.  She's crazy.

She's knock kneed, pigeon toed and lame.

And her nose is like a tunnel and her ears are like a funnel.

She's my darling, consumptive, Molly Jane.

She's got gumboils on her knees.

And her face would make you sneeze.

She has freckles on her feet that make her lame.

And you know her teeth were false just from chewing Epson salts.

She's my darling, consumptive, Molly Jane.

But, she's my honey, my baby.  She's cross-eyed.  She's crazy.

She's knock kneed, pigeon toed and lame.

And her nose is like a tunnel and her ears are like a funnel.

She's my darling, consumptive Molly Jane.

There may be more verses, but I don't remember them. I haven't sung the song for a long time. If you want me to sing it for you sometime, I'd be happy to oblige.

Beside learning about sitting on boards to hold them still and silly songs, I also learned a few things that have been valuable to me through out my life.

My father was a wonderful ballroom dancer.  He and Mom belonged to a group that had monthly ballroom dances. He met my mother at an after mutual dance at the 18th Ward in Salt Lake. (Note: I'm now attend the 18th Ward.)  It was my father that taught me how to fox trot, waltz, swing and tango.  He was my favorite partner at Ward Gold and Green balls.  The boys my age had basic knowledge of ballroom dancing because we received regular instruction as part of mutual activities.  But they couldn't hold a candle to my father.  Memories of having him lead me around the dance floor to a live band are some that I treasure today.

As mentioned earlier, my father was a singer.  But he also knew how to lead congregational singing.  He served many years as the music director in the ward.  He taught me the proper way to conduct singing.  I learned basic conducting patterns while he coached me to have a firm, definite pattern without a weak, floppy wrist.  His instruction has served my well through out my life.