The 95th Birthday of My Father, Edmund Gates, Jr.

Dad was born on June 15, 1919, so today is his 95th birthday. This tribute was first published in the June 2009 issue of Oklahoma Living.


Dad celebrating his 80th Birthday

 Tribute to My Father

                Fathers like mine are scarce these days.  Many of my father’s experiences would have embittered other men but not Dad.  Difficult circumstances have only made him stronger and more determined in character.
                As a preteen in the early 1930s, my father was loafing and disinterested in school.  Following notification by his teacher, his father put him on the opposite end of a crosscut saw for a few days.  This exhausting work experience was meant to teach Dad the value of education and diligence.  Lesson learned.
                Attending high school required a sixty-nine-mile bus ride one way.  Frequently as Dad trotted the one-and-a- half- mile stretch to catch the bus, he carried eggs or a can of cream to sell for his mother.  Times were hard for their large family during the Great Depression, so he didn’t mind the inconvenience (or embarrassment) because it provided necessary income.
                As a teen-ager, my father’s brother was struck and killed by lightning.  They had just celebrated their June birthdays with a noon meal and a birthday cake.  My father learned to deal with loss, to grieve, and “pick up the pieces and go on.”
                My father enlisted in the Army Air Corps eight days after the bombing of Pearl Harbor.   He flew twenty-five missions over Europe as an upper turret gunner on a B-17 Flying Fortress.   After completing his combat duty and being awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, his crew was shot down over Berlin killing some of his closest buddies.  Instead of allowing the devastation of war to destroy him, Dad used it as motivation to become the best carpenter, husband, and father that he could be.  He viewed his survival of the war as an incredible gift and his experiences as precious memories with valuable lessons.
               Realizing activity is one of the keys to longevity, Dad still cares for a small herd of cattle, and each spring plants a garden with the goal of having extra to share with others.  Approaching the age of ninety, he continues nurturing his relationship with God and serving faithfully in his church. 

Dad is dwarfed in the center of his garden in 2000.

              Sometimes when I become weary of the stresses and responsibilities in life, I recall the life-altering situations that Dad has experienced and how he has thrived in spite of them.  That very thought spurs me to a life of faith, courage, and resolve to live a life worthy of being called his daughter.


Mother and Dad at the Myriad Gardens in OKC in 2002.

               Obviously, Dad is not caring for his cattle or planting a a garden since his strokes. However, he continues to nurture his relationship with God. Every day when I ask him if he wants to listen to one of the three Bible teachers that he daily hears, he always nods his head. A few weeks ago as I sat next to him during our nightly family prayer, I could feel his left hand raising. I asked him, "Were you praying?" He nodded his head. I'm sure he is praying for many of us.

              As he courageously deals with limited speech, more indoor living than he has ever had in his life, coupled with greatly limited mobility, he still inspires me. He doesn't complain or express anger through all of these difficulties. When I wrote the tribute to him in 2009, I would never imagined that God's plan for him would be to live these latter years with such limitations. Neither would I have realized that how he has handled this time would be one of the greatest motivations to live a life worthy of being called Edmund Gates, Jr.'s daughter.


So many people have mentioned they miss Dad waving from
this swing. I have a couple of goals. I want to be able to work
and accomplish as much as he did. But I also want to have the
wisdom to relax just as he is doing in the photograph.