IN MEMORY WILLIAM S. Houck

My dad was my best buddy. I was told after he died that he carried me, from the time I was a baby, to church. My mom never went with us. All through my life my dad was my strength and my encouragement. His love for me was unconditional, although I let him down many times and hurt him. I knew I always had a home to come to. I never knew why it was so important to him for me to get an education. I disappointed him and quit school, although he did live to see me go back and get my diploma. His mother died when he was 16 and he had to quit school to go to work and help his family. There were 8 children. After he died, his brother told me that my dad had the highest IQ of anyone that ever went through their high school. He taught me many things, the greatest was how to love my own children with the same unconditional love that he gave to me.

After the flood of 72, he acquired a river lot along the Juniata. I remember helping him drag out old bedsprings and every other imaginable piece of junk. We waded in itch weed up to our necks. My children from the oldest to the youngest have grown up on this river lot. It is four miles down the road from me. After my dad passed away in 1998, from his third bout with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, none of my family wanted to keep the river lot. There were too many memories for me to let go. I asked if I could have it and it was agreed that it was mine.

The first year there I could hardly stand being there; I missed him so much. The second year went better; his presence was everywhere. We could hear his laughter and remember his wonderful sense of humor. Just when I thought I was handling things better, my oldest son borrowed my dad's boat from my mother to go on a float trip. They pulled up to the river lot to come ashore. As they pulled that boat up over the bank, the empty seat caught my eye and tore my heart to shreds. It was the first time that boat had been to the river without my dad. I cried a river of tears that day. Something about that empty boat seat made me except the reality of his absence.

He flew a flag in our yard until the day he died and that day I lowered his flag to half-staff in his memory. He taught me many things. He taught me to love my country and to always be thankful for the sacrifices made by ordinary men who did extraordinary things to keep this country free. I'm glad I got to see the World War II Memorial, I only wished it wouldn't have been too late for my dad. I hope God gave him a window out of Heaven that day to see me there for him. I look forward to the day when I will see him again. If my children remember me for the love I have given to them, as I do my dad, then my life will have been worthwhile.

THE MAN
We came to this lot on the Juniata, the year was nineteen seventy three
We cut down all the weeds and hung a tire swing from the tree
A tall and dark haired handsome man worked hard to clear this land
Where children have made memories and played all day in the sand
We built a big pavilion and set the picnic tables in
Then we fished and camped and everyone went for a swim
The pavilion has washed away, the man is no longer here
But we see him in our memory and the picture is so clear
He'd wake us up at daybreak he'd rattle the pots and pans
We miss his smile and laughter and the love of that tall man

Life flows by like the river, sometimes faster than we planned
We remember each ripple in the sun and we’ll always remember
The Man