My Daddy Glen
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This is my place to share my thoughts however random with freedom to express myself in full, some might say to fully.
Most of those who have known me most of my life know of my "Daddy-Glen" and have just figured that he was my father. Well, he was, for he was always there, not always in a positive fashion, which I choose not to discuss. You will read into it what you will and what you suspect is probably correct. That being said, I would like to share with you what Daddy Glen taught me,
He taught me to work on cars, ride motorcycles, drive tractors and road-graders. He taught me how to start responsible fires (he was a fireman), for burning weeds and debris. He was active in my learning to swim, water-ski and fly. He never said "Girls can't do that!". He usually said, "here let me explain how to do that"," let me show you how", and "I think you can do it, just give it your best". Most of all he encouraged my freedom of speech, although I think he wished he hadn't after allowing that for, I being the rebel that I am, always had a different view point that he rarely liked, agreed with and some times darn right hated, what I had to say.
He read, 10 or more books in a week, in fact he is the one person that taught me schooling isn't everything. He was raised during the depression and had to quit school in the 8th grade, but you really would never know it unless you saw the way he would spell boat (bote). He also believed that education was all around you, you just had to see it, experience it and apply it. One of his most amazing talents was spotting tools on the freeway, and stopping in time to gather them (though I am sure, he would not recommend that type of action on today's freeways).
Most of all he was a story teller. Sometimes fanciful, sometimes prophetic. He used to ask me do you know why "Rice Road" was named rice, I said no. And he would be off. He told me that the road people had run out of concrete, asphalt, gravel, dirt, and sand. All they had left to make the road was rice.
Every time we ventured through Yucca Valley and 29 Palms he would say that the saber tooth tiger was still chasing the giant tortoise, but that he tortoise was still ahead, he went on to say that he has only seem them move 5 inches in the past 25 years. Fun stories, and it's no wonder that he got the name of "Whooper Kelly"
Prophetic, in that he once said that we would become a cashless society, to which we are very close today. That if we were not careful in who we voted for and on, we would have all of our freedoms taken away. not too much of a stretch to see that today. That the government would issue us all numbers and that if we didn't have a number, we would not be known. Funny, I have in my possession, 2 Social Security Cards that read, not for identification purposes imprinted on them. Yet today, you must have a Social Security Card.
It seems that he had more wisdom than time to share.
If he could remember who I was, I would love to sit down and share with him how much he taught me about the world. How much I apprecatie the freedom of speech that he allowed he and how, some how, he often protected me, when he could from my mothers wrath and fists.
Thank you Daddy Glen, Glen Whopper Kelly! Thank you for being my dad.
Ldb (JB)
Most of those who have known me most of my life know of my "Daddy-Glen" and have just figured that he was my father. Well, he was, for he was always there, not always in a positive fashion, which I choose not to discuss. You will read into it what you will and what you suspect is probably correct. That being said, I would like to share with you what Daddy Glen taught me,
He taught me to work on cars, ride motorcycles, drive tractors and road-graders. He taught me how to start responsible fires (he was a fireman), for burning weeds and debris. He was active in my learning to swim, water-ski and fly. He never said "Girls can't do that!". He usually said, "here let me explain how to do that"," let me show you how", and "I think you can do it, just give it your best". Most of all he encouraged my freedom of speech, although I think he wished he hadn't after allowing that for, I being the rebel that I am, always had a different view point that he rarely liked, agreed with and some times darn right hated, what I had to say.
He read, 10 or more books in a week, in fact he is the one person that taught me schooling isn't everything. He was raised during the depression and had to quit school in the 8th grade, but you really would never know it unless you saw the way he would spell boat (bote). He also believed that education was all around you, you just had to see it, experience it and apply it. One of his most amazing talents was spotting tools on the freeway, and stopping in time to gather them (though I am sure, he would not recommend that type of action on today's freeways).
Most of all he was a story teller. Sometimes fanciful, sometimes prophetic. He used to ask me do you know why "Rice Road" was named rice, I said no. And he would be off. He told me that the road people had run out of concrete, asphalt, gravel, dirt, and sand. All they had left to make the road was rice.
Every time we ventured through Yucca Valley and 29 Palms he would say that the saber tooth tiger was still chasing the giant tortoise, but that he tortoise was still ahead, he went on to say that he has only seem them move 5 inches in the past 25 years. Fun stories, and it's no wonder that he got the name of "Whooper Kelly"
Prophetic, in that he once said that we would become a cashless society, to which we are very close today. That if we were not careful in who we voted for and on, we would have all of our freedoms taken away. not too much of a stretch to see that today. That the government would issue us all numbers and that if we didn't have a number, we would not be known. Funny, I have in my possession, 2 Social Security Cards that read, not for identification purposes imprinted on them. Yet today, you must have a Social Security Card.
It seems that he had more wisdom than time to share.
If he could remember who I was, I would love to sit down and share with him how much he taught me about the world. How much I apprecatie the freedom of speech that he allowed he and how, some how, he often protected me, when he could from my mothers wrath and fists.
Thank you Daddy Glen, Glen Whopper Kelly! Thank you for being my dad.
Ldb (JB)
