Father 6-20-21

 Dad

Provider,

Instructor,

Leader, 

Protector,

Writer,

Creator.

Father

Family

Author

Tough

Helper

Eternal

Reliable 

May 31, 1992

Carrie Flynn

Daddy

Father, we look to you

And see how you treat our family

We learn by example

And you’ve given us an excellent one.

You spend Many nights away

But we know you’ll soon be home.

You’ve taught us about

Life, families, and God.

Yu’ve done so much for us

And on this - your day…

I want you to know 

How much you’re loved.

So, Daddy, as you travel

Down toes long roads

just think of your family

And our never-ending love for you.

As time goes by,

And all of us grow up,

We’ll take what we’ve learned

And use it in our own families.

Thank you Dad.

You’ve done a good job with the 

Children Heavenly Father

Has given  you to raise.

I love you Daddy,

Your CarrieLu!

May 19, 1997

Carrie Keiser

Reflections of a Trucker’s Kid

You use to have pictures of us

Held up by toothpicks

In the cab of that ole Truck.

As I read your poems, thot’s come thru

Of summers when we’d go along

Just for fun & time with you.

Whether it was a cattle rub

Or all the way across the country

It sure was fun.

In case we were in a town,

We always took church clothes

And hoped one could be found.

To go along we could not wait

And see the Gateway to the West

Or Nauvoo it was great.

The rainstorm that poured a ton,

Or the lightening that scared us both

BLT’s & soda straws from every truck stop on the run.

Sleeping on the load

And chasing fireflies at the rest stop,

Saw a lot of places as we drove down the road.

Some say unlucky to not always have our dad

But the trips & time with you

Always cheered us up and made us glad.

We got to do what most don’t:

See the country from the cab

Of that big ole green truck.

Feb 12, 2021

Carrie Keiser

Story

True story or not

I don’t want to stir the pot

So I’ve written another tho’t

Reach for a book

Come on, take a look

Turning the pages I shook.

Oh what will it be?

What will we see?

The suspense is killing me!

The pages they flutter

My insides like butter

“Get it together!” I mutter

My heart does a flip-flop

As I look to the ti-top

Do I hear a clip-clop?

Oh it’s the ring of a horseshoe

He tosses another one or two

As he learns to throw them true

Now it’s the sound of the road

As he trucks on by with a load

Doing his best to follow the code.

Now he’s humming

And singing

And driving.

What is this rhyme?

Who wrote this line?

Let’s check the by-line.

Trucker’s Life

He writes about joy and strife

And his kids and wife.

This author, who is he?

Daren Flynn it be.

Oh! My father is he!

Reminiscences

Myrna Flynn

My definition of a father is: a man who understands and accepts that he is responsible to love, take care of his family. Who overcomes selfish desires and puts his family first in his life.

The best thing, now that I am much older, that I truly appreciate about my dad was that he was willing to go to work everyday to a job that he hated. He was a logger who loved logging. He picked where he wanted a log to fall and that is where that tree landed. When he no longer could get a job as a logger, he went to work at a lumber mill, that is the job he hated. I think he worked that job for 5 or 6 years. After that he worked as a section hand for the railroad. He did not mind that job.

(Short note about while dad was still logging: Mom put a Jello cup in his lunch box. When dad got home, he told her to please not to do that again, because he had to chase it all over the hillside to eat it.)

In 1953, we moved to Cheney so my brother could go to college. Dad went to work for the railroad there. When he was being interviewed, he was asked how old he was. He told the man, who would be his boss, that he was edging 50. He go the job. When he got home, mom asked him how it went. He said, "He asked me how old I was. I told him I was edging 50, but I did not tell him which edge."

When mom retired, they moved to Reardan, WA. Dad had a garden and he would get upset when his grandchildren would eat the strawberries. He did not mind them eating the green peas because that was the only way they ate the peas. There was a bunch of cows on the other side of the fence who would come to the fence and try to get to the garden (and the fruit trees). Dad would have the grandkids, especially Brandon and Ryanne, throw rocks (and use the slingshot) at them to chase them away.

Dad did not drive, so my brother, your Uncle Ed, would take him where he wanted to go. One time when fishing, they took Martin and I think Sean with them. Unbeknownst to dad, mom had made Martin take an exlax (because he had bad breath). When they got back, dad told mom to not ever give a kid an exlax before a fishing trip again!

Dad and Ed went to some property that he owned near Springdale to cut a few trees down. Ryanne went with them and earned the nickname "Logger". Ask Ryanne how that happened. (Ryanne said: they told me to stay in the truck. Well that's not fun, so I got out. I heard the yell of Timber and the tree falling, I thought it was going to kill me, so I got back in the truck and locked the door. When they got back I wouldn't let them in. Uncle Ed gave me that nickname.")

Dad had given Clancy the nickname of Colonel. I do not remember what Clancy had done, but his nickname was changed to MUD. Ask Clancy if he remembers how that happened. (Clancy remembers this: "It changed back and forth a bunch. Pretty much anytime I was good it was Colonel and if I messed up it became Mud. It does seem like there was a big mess up too though, but I'll darned if I can remember what that was. I probably broke a bottle or something.) 

Brandon and his cousin, Scott, were told they could never visit at the same time again.Text Brandon and find out what all they did to receive that ultimatum. (Carrie remember that particular visit. The boys were taking Grampa's pop cans that he was collecting to turn in for money and cutting them in half inserting a fire cracker and lighting them off in the back yard. Ryanne also had memories of that visit. She said we were all planning to sleep outside and the boys went inside after Carrie fell asleep and then locked her outside all night.)

To close, now that I can appreciate it, I am very thankful that my dad put his family first in his life. And I hope that both he and mom now know how so very sorry I am that I never realized how much they sacrificed for and gave to their family.

Cary Holmquist

When I recently considered turning my heart to my fathers, I flash on my pedigree chart paternal lines.  A little ways along the chart, I see that none of these men have the same last names and this causes confusion amongst modern-day Americans, who just have trouble understanding patronymics.

So, my great-grandfather Alfred was born Alfred Holmqvist in Sweden.  But his father was born Jöns Jönsson and changedī his surname to Holmqvist when he joined the Swedish Army and he continued to use that surname the rest of his life and passed it on to his children.

Jöns Jönsson had several brothers born with the patronymic of Jönsson and some of them also joined the Swedish Army and each took a different surname: Löfdahl, Fors and Nelander.  That will cross your genealogy eyes.

Back to my paternal-line names—which is enough to cross most eyes (or to close eyes, like about all of you now...just checking...).  The man who was Jöns Holmqvist was born as Jöns Jönsson even though his father’s name at the time was Jöns Sandberg after he joined the Swedish Army, though his birth name was also Jöns Jönsson, so I was remiss in saying that Jöns Jönsson did not have the same surname as his father...because he had exactly the same name as his father: two Jöns Jönssons in a row.  

But that first Jöns Jönsson’s father was Erick Drakman, which was his surname from when he was in the Swedish Army.  But that is as far back as I have been able to trace my paternal line, back to 1785, because that is when the little Swedish Lutheran Church parish building burned down and took all of the parish records into the flames.  That is worse than a brick wall!

So, in summary, going back from Holmquist the surname goes to Holmqvist to Jönsson and Sandberg to Erickson and Drakman.  Or so the family his-story goes....