Happy Birthday Dad (July 29)

When I was a child, this day would be spent watching dad unwrap the present I had meticulously chosen for him from Canadian Tire. Some years the gift was camping gear, like some new fish hooks or a compass. Other years it was gummy candy and a six-pack of blank VHS tapes. No matter what the year or gift was, I always remember watching his face and hoping for a smile as he unwrapped it. I was never disappointed.

Last week we experienced dad’s first birthday since he passed away. I’m not going to pretend getting through the day was easy. But I did manage to find some quiet time to sit down and just remember some of those moments we both smiled as I grew up.

In honour of dad’s birthday, here are some stories from happier family times:

Yukon Mice Are Strong

We had many fantastic family vacations, but the best one ever had to be our trip to the Yukon. Mom and Dad loaded us three kids into a station wagon, hitched up a trailer, and made the treacherous drive up the Alaska Highway (back when the Alaska Highway truly sucked).

I don’t remember exactly where we were in our trip, but I do remember us kids throwing rocks into the water. There was a bridge off in the distance. There was some sort of motel behind us. And much to our parents’ chagrin, there were some fishermen between us rock-hurling kids and the water. I don’t really recall how many times they had to ask us to stop hurling rocks, but I do remember they were getting kind of mad. So we stopped. And as soon as the folks turned their backs...one good and fast rock went whizzing past them, narrowly missing a fisherman before making a satisfying KERPLUNK into the water.

However, my brother proceeded to explain that while he certainly did not throw any more rocks, he did see a mouse grab a rock and throw it. Mom and Dad laughed at that explanation for years to come.

I’m still a bit put out that my brother totally got away with throwing that rock.

Everybody was Croc-Fu Fighting

In some countries, if you throw your shoes at someone you are hurling great insult and disrespect their way. But at mom and dad`s house, throwing shoes was a sign of loving affection. Named for the ugly garden shoe that everyone loves to wear in inappropriate places, Croc-wars were the invention of Dad and his grandson Matty. They would both place a Croc on each hand, and then try to slap each other silly with them. Matty would literally scream with delight. Sometimes, he laughed until he puked. Papa usually won (although I’m pretty sure he cheated).

Eventually slapping each other with crocs escalated into throwing crocs at each other. Landing a shoe in the face was often met with much laughter and merriment, and we have many photos of brightly-coloured crocs flying through the air to prove it.

How did such a strange family activity get started? I have no idea. But I’m glad it happened.

When One Cake Just Won`t Do

My dad loved nothing more than giant family picnics and family gatherings in the back yard of the family home. He loved to celebrate everything. There were back-yard parties for family day, birthdays, and anniversaries. Quite often, he didn’t need a reason at all.

In 2007, we celebrated dad’s birthday with a family gathering in the back yard. I remember him being very calm and happy hanging out with Mom, us kids and the grandkids on the patio. The weather was perfect. We all laughed too hard. We all ate too much food (there were TWO birthday cakes for some reason that I can no longer remember).

We all smiled so much.

Happy birthday dad.

Photo 1 caption: Dad celebrates his birthday with TWO cakes at our family home in Calgary, Alberta in July 2007

 Photo 2 caption: These brightly coloured crocs spent more time being hurled into people`s faces than they ever spent on anyone`s feet.

 

Submitted by: Liesa Evans, Daughter

Camping in New York

Gary taught me so much about the outdoors, I never really had the chance growing up to enjoy camping as you all had, so he made sure to share how much he loved it with us and made us enjoy every minute of it. I recall our first camping trip here in NY...just the 3 of us, no make that 4, as of course our dog Gypsy was with us too. 

We pull up to the sight and there Sgt Gary giving us the drill on what to do, it all happend so fast, the tent went up, the cooking gear set, tarp tied...my head was spinning! Later that day after Joe and I had gone on a walk for firewood, we came back to the site and there he was, fresh perked coffee in hand, bandanna tied around his head,  cutoff jean shorts...looking like Rambo...he told us he wanted to show us something...so off we went, following Rambo with his knives in pocket and his axe in his hand, like lambs to the slaughter.....after walking off into the woods, he stops turns around and says "Did you hear that?" (Joe and I look at each other silently saying what is he talking about I can't hear a thing) so he says it again, by this time Joe is looking at me like omg mom this crazy man is going to chop us up with his axe!

So I say I can't hear a thing as it's so quiet, and he says "Exactly!" HUGE GRIN on his face.  Then he proceeds to tell us this is what he loves most about the outdoors, finding quiet places, etc. I think the color came back to Joe's face about an hour after we got back to the campsite and started dinner!  Of course, later by the fire under the stars he shared his Wendigo story...I don't think Joe or I slept that weekend!

He was an amazing man, so loving and kind who made so many friends here that really respected him. I am forever blessed he touched my life. <3

Submitted by: Susan Tavernese-Durksen, Wife

Big Fish

Papa was a very big story teller like his grandfather. He told us many stories over the years. I never questioned any of them. Reality gets very dull sometimes, so it's fun to think of UFOs, mythical creatures, ghosts, sasquatches and dinosaurs in the water. I've come to accept that I don't know everything. The universe is too vast and complicated for the human mind to fully comprehend. I always believed Papa felt the same way. He kept himself open to the possibility of these things. He often said, "You just never know."

Papa liked to wait for the right moment to tell his stories. Often it was when we were around the campfire at night, or laying down in the tent by the old house at the farm while the wind wailed around us. He told me many times about the ghost in the old house at the farm. He said his grandpa saw the ghost of a long-dead relative in the livingroom. He also told us how Pop-Pops would put salamanders in people's shoes. This was obviously passed down to Papa because there were three times when we found salamanders in our shoes at the farm. Papa told us it was the ghost of Pop-Pops playing tricks on us, but looking back on it now I think it may have been Papa himself who did it.

He also told us about the UFO. He said he was camping with some friends one time. They were laying around the fire in their sleeping bags, looking up at the stars. There was a light in the sky that was darting back and forth. It would cross the entire sky, bounce back and move around in strange shapes. Papa said they all looked at each other, didn't say a word and went to sleep. He believed it was a UFO. He said there was no aircraft or shooting star that could move around like that.

 

Papa's grandpa passed down stories to him about hooshers and wendigos. He said hooshers were very slim, tall creatures that stood behind trees and made sounds that went like, "Hooooosh!" He said they had voices like the wind and that you would never be able to see them because they would move around the trees, or go from tree to tree very quickly. Wendigos were either bears or wolverines possessed by evil spirits. He said you could tell them apart from regular bears and wolverines because they had silver-tipped hair that took the form of a stripe down their backs. He also said you could feel their presence because it would make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Wendigos were dangerous and you would never be able to escape from one.

He told us a story once about him walking through the woods. He was all alone and was looking for a fishing spot along Old Man River. He came to a clearing in the forest where there was an ancient Indian burial ground. He described the birds going completely silent once he stepped into the clearing and how the hair on the back of his neck was standing up straight. He said a feeling washed over him that told him he needed to leave that place immediately and never come back.

Papa never made it to Scotland, but if I bet if he had he would've had stories to tell about the Lochness Monster. He did, however, speak of Ogopogo in Okanogen Lake. He never admitted to seeing such a creature, but he said the natives believed in it and that was enough to convince him as they know things that we don't.

Sasquatches were something that really interested Papa. We spent hours watching documentaries and TV shows about them together. He had many books about sasquatches. One of his favourite stories turned out to be a hoax, but even that didn't destroy his belief in them. Papa travelled to the Seattle area three times in his life. The last two times I was able to go along with him. He said there used to be a lot of sightings in the Washington area, especially around Mount St. Helens. According to him, sasquatches lived and thrived in the lava tunnels before Mount St. Helens errupted. After the natural disaster occurred, there were less and less sightings. While on vacation with him down there, we camped around in some very densely wooded areas. Papa told us very seriously to watch out for sasquatches. He even entertained the idea that sasquatches were dropped on Earth by alien spaceships.

Papa believed in ghosts more than anything else. We used to watch a TV show together called Creepy Canada. It covered all kinds of local ghost stories. It came on right when I got home from school. Papa would have dinner waiting. We would sit in the livingroom, watch Creepy Canada and eat dinner. For a while it was the highlight of each day for me. I looked forward to it. Many times he told me that once he passed away, he would try to come back and visit his grandkids in spirit form. I have not yet seen or heard from him since his passing, but I like to keep an open mind because you just never know.

Submitted by: Amber Copeland, Granddaughter