My father had the same first name as his father (Lafe). He was the oldest son in a family of seven kids. He grew up in the middle of his two older sisters, which provided hilarious stories of sibling pranks galore. He arrived on the scene of Lusk High School as a 6’2” junior from Rock Springs where many girls made their play for him. However, it was the freshman 5’2” Anita Jean who caught his eye.
Grandpa Lafe was on the draft board, so “junior” enlisted in the U.S Navy on his eighteenth birthday so there would be no recriminations toward his dad. After his two-year stint in the Navy, he returned to the University of Wyoming, but it wasn’t long until Lafe, Sr. called, asking if he would consider returning home and joining Culver & Sons, a Willys Jeep dealership and auto parts store. His books thudded to the floor as he shouted, “yes!” into the phone. Besides, he wanted to be close to Anita before someone else snatched her up. (My dad was a relentless romantic, writing poems and relishing any chance to celebrate Mama’s birthday, Valentine’s Day and almost 67 anniversaries.)
Dad’s interest in photography began to grow when he discovered Wyoming’s Wind River Range in 1949, hiking 14 miles in to Ross Lake. An avid outdoors-man, dad kept our home amply supplied with trout, deer, and antelope and elk meat. One day, when I was four, my mother asked if she could fix a nice beef pot roast. She was ‘sick and tired’ of wild meat. My response for her efforts? “What’s wrong with this meat? It tastes funny.” To this day, I would like to have a chance to prepare our version of hunter’s stew made with elk steak.
Our lives changed dramatically when my parents became Christians. I was only four years old, but I remember the night they were both baptized. A neighbor stayed with me and my parents came home with wet hair and ecstatic happiness. A year later, when Dad was 25, he made the decision to leave Culver & Sons in Lusk to enter a small Bible College in Iowa and become a preacher. He fought his calling – he was “not a desk man” after all! One of his favorite stories was telling what I said when he asked me what I thought. I said, “Daddy, if you don’t go, who will tell people about Jesus?” Dad was an excellent mechanic and he supported himself through college working under hoods and car bodies. The smell of oil and gasoline bring those memories into sharp focus.
Dad started preaching in a small rural Iowa church, twenty miles from school. Though he had been in school for less than six months, he discovered as a natural storyteller, composing sermons and making spiritual applications from his beloved Wyoming and Navy days came easily. He ministered in several Iowa churches. He loved working for several weeks each summer in youth camps. He was sought after as an evangelist for revivals all over the United States to hold two-to-four week meetings in the summer.
He developed “nature talks” to tell wherever he went, including presenting those talks at an annual nationwide camp, where hundreds of young people hung on every word. Our three children also benefited from his sermons and nature stories at this same camp. They loved his punch line: “And I wonder how many thousands of years did it take for the (whatever animal, fish or bird) to figure that out!” Countless “young” people have said, “Brother Lafe was my favorite preacher.” Many considered my dad, their dad. I didn’t mind sharing him – most of the time – because I was there when he decided to go into the ministry.
He ministered for 53 years, not only as a preacher, but also as a Bible College professor for 22 years. At age 80 he had no other choice but to retire from being a paid staff member because his health was declining. After much trial and error he eventually received the diagnosis of vascular Parkinson’s disease. This once very active man now stutter stepped as he walked. He took it in stride, but the family was constantly freaked out he would fall. I was caught off guard by the grief that weighed me down upon his official retirement. My husband and our children could see the handwriting on the wall. Mom seemed to be in denial. I tried to adopt a “Grieve as You Go Plan” for the journey ahead.
The next seven years brought a steady decline in Dad’s ability to get around, but his perseverance and “I’m coping” approach was steadfast. Three years after his retirement, his hip broke. He had less lower back pain after his hip replacement! Even though dad was officially retired, that didn’t stop him from leading a home Bible study group and talking to folks about his Lord.
While Daddy was coping with physical challenges, my husband and I were coping with yet another layoff. We ended up moving six times in a twelve-year period and that is not including two work apartments. Our most recent move brought us back to the east county Portland area on Christmas Eve of 2013. We had hoped for another 4-6 months with dad, but he “moved onto Heaven” just one month later.
I thought that my “Grieve As You Go Plan” would naturally subside. But that was not to be. The summer after we moved out of our short-term stay apartment into our house and unpacked all the boxes from storage, I sobbed while putting away books in “Daddy’s Bookcase.” This was the bookcase he built when he was going to Bible College. The bookcase served him well. And it has served us well for over 15 years. It represents so much of his view of life: building a simple bookcase out of pine, but with great attention to details like a indestructible backing, rounded corners on the top, complete with wood plugs and a mahogany stain.
As I unpacked each treasure he had given me over the years, such as an antique Hall Aladdin teapot for my Hall brand of teapots collection, an antique floor lamp he restored for me and a large Japanese glass float which he passed on to me I wept with each discovery.
My dad was not only my father figure, but my mentor as well. Here is what I consider the top ten things Daddy taught me.
#10)
Breakfast is the best meal of the day. As our family traveled across the country, we often slept in the Rambler station wagon and ate out of a cooler, but Dad always tried to make sure we had a hot breakfast. His love of a good breakfast outing continued until the very last weeks of his life.
#9)
There is a song for every occasion. There are songs for serenading loved ones, songs for getting up, songs for work, songs for play, songs for the road, songs of joy, songs of sadness. If he didn’t have a song for the occasion, he made one up or adapted some existing song.
One of my earliest memories is tagging along while dad sang in a gospel quartet. First, it was a funeral in Lusk and during Bible college years he regularly sang in a quartet.
#8)
Making memories is more important than the money required to make them. Dad loved commemorating small moments or large events with pictures, stories and side trips. One morning we woke up in the back of the Rambler wagon facing Jenny Lake in the Tetons. We got up, washed our faces and had – you guessed it – breakfast in Jenny Lake Lodge. After our first trip to Florida for a meeting we traveled back through New Orleans. Dad decided we should try the world famous Antoine’s Restaurant in the French Quarter for dinner. This was unheard of on our limited budget. Mom and I were also very concerned about our travel-weary and disheveled look. Not dad. He marched in to the restaurant and asked if we could have dinner there even though we weren’t dressed up! As a teenager, I was torn between the beautiful restaurant with its huge buffet of seafood with more shrimp an Iowa girl had ever seen, and the embarrassment of my wrinkled blouse and culottes.
#7)
There is a way to develop a spiritual application about almost anything and a fun way to teach it. My first memory verse was learned marching in rhythm around the kitchen table. By age six, I was required to remember the points of every sermon dad (or anyone else) preached and recount them later at home. To this day, I can develop a three-point lesson on any scripture or life experience.
#6)
Don’t take yourself too seriously. At one family reunion we were asked to write down answers to four questions then see if the family could guess whose sheet it was, solely based on the answers. The last question was, “What was your most embarrassing moment?” No one had any trouble identifying Dad’s answer: “I’ve never had one!” (He had no problem with others being embarrassed!)
I was privileged to share an office with my father for two years when he was on staff at a Portland, Oregon church. I was leading Women’s Ministries and preparing our quarterly magazine and other graphic design tasks. We had an associate pastor who was in charge of “40 Days of Purpose” and taking his leadership position very seriously. Each of us had a task and had an accounting to give at our weekly meetings. When Dad was asked if he had done his weekly task, Dad replied: “Forgive me, Reverend Mother, for I have sinned!” The associate was annoyed. Dad loved it, as did everyone else at the table.
#5)
Don’t be easily offended. An Iowa farmer told dad: “I was going to throw these potatoes to the hogs and then I thought of you!”
#4)
Attitude is key in character development. Dad could not abide self-centered behavior or pouting, moodiness or a “don’t care” attitude. At youth camps and retreats he was known for hollering “Attitude Check!” at any time. The response he expected? “Praise the Lord!”
#3
Perseverance isn’t just a character trait to talk about. In 1994, as our group rode out on Ross Lake’s steepest switch back trail, dad’s horse fell. In the fall down the embankment, dad broke his right ankle, a very severe break. What did he do? First, he rode another horse out the remaining twelve miles. When he couldn’t have surgery in Cheyenne due to the swelling, he drove (left-footed, by himself) to York, Nebraska. He stayed overnight in a handicapped room in a recliner and drove the next day to Des Moines to the Veterans hospital where they did surgery and inserted a steel pin in his ankle! What did he do after surgery? He immediately drove himself home ninety miles to Ottumwa. His perseverance manifested itself throughout his battle with Parkinson’s until he could no longer stand.
#2)
Showing deep feeling and emotion is okay. I can’t ever remember him apologizing in a sermon or class for tearing up or for his voice being choked with emotion. Dad was always passionate when he was trying to get a point across. In the words of Victor Knowles, “He came down hard as a hammer on sin but light as a feather on those who received God’s grace. One minute you were shaking in your boots, the next minute sobbing with relief, and then laughing with joy.”
And the #1 thing my dad taught me is…
Without faith in God, life has no real meaning or hope. He would say: “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. If you feel God is far away, He’s not the one who has moved!” Dad was wonder-struck by God, as evidenced by his love of the outdoors and creation. He often recounted the incidents in his life where he felt the clear touch of God. In spite of disappointments, illness, challenges or sorrows, God was his Everything!
Thank you, Daddy, for these lessons and so many more!