This is the last selfie I took of my dad and I at Ayden's graduation party May 2015
Richard I. Powell (March 14, 1931-October 26, 2015)
My dad was the story teller. We were captivated as he told stories of his youth, people around town, his grandparents, his aunts and uncles, and his grandkids. He had a story to tell pretty much about everyone he knew. It wasn't until the mid 70s that my dad decided to start writing them down. And he wrote and wrote. I got my love of words from my dad. So while these are my perceptions and memories I hope I paint a picture of my dad with words today....something that he truly loved. Whenever I called he asked me what I was writing. And he just wanted people to read his words. We did and we will cherish them.....but Pop I wrote this one for you.
My dad was the firstborn of Ivan and Pauline Powell. A depression baby. We could say he was a mischievous child but he was probably just like every other boy of those times. He and his buddies may or may not have tipped his grouchy neighbor over in his outhouse and then went back to rescue him and get paid for the rescue. He may or may not have lit a sack of doggie doodie on fire dropped it on a porch and rang the recipients bell. And he most definitely shook the hand that shook the hand of Abraham Lincoln. That is a tiny sampling of stories we heard. He was a Mississippi boy growing up on the river and all that entails. He lived his whole life in Camanche and around or on the Mississippi.
When he graduated from high school he headed off to Bradley University with an initial thought to study education. But ended up with two years in drafting. He always wanted to finish but he was drafted into the army. This was one of the reasons why he wanted all of his kids to get an education.
He proposed to my mom Christmas Eve 1951 and they married January 21,1952 on a very icy night. He shipped to Korea 7 days later. He said he had never been so cold, wet, and hungry during some of his time on the front lines. But he survived and returned home to my mom, they started their family, and he began his lifelong love affair with food. He didn't care what he ate just feed him....except anything with mustard. Oh and anything that resembled an SOS meal. That reminded him of army food. He ate it but expressed to me with complete clarity that he never wanted me to serve him creamed tuna on toast ever again.
He was always civics minded. He served on the school board and volunteered for fire and sheriff duties. He loved telling stories about doing ride alongs. And later in his life he was a city councilman.
He was baptized Baptist but credits Wally Metzger, his dear friend, with his understanding of his faith and Christ and what he needed spiritually in his life. He attended Clinton E Free for the past 40 years with my mom.
My dad was a huge John Wayne fan which annoyed me as a teenager and endeared me as an adult.
I never knew much about his army tour until he became older. As was often the case with many vets he didn't talk about his time overseas. There was a small box of black and white photos in the closet and a Japanese kimono in mom's cedar chest that we used for a Halloween costume. That's all I knew. After I married Eric and we became a military family, I saw him start to open up more and eventually he donned his Korean vet cap daily. He served as a veteran in parades and funerals continuing his civil commitments. He was finally chosen for an honor flight a couple of years ago and I'm so thankful he received the welcome home he deserved. We are fortunate he spent time writing down his military stories for generations to come.
He was the strongest man I have ever known. Just brut strength. I remember him talking about throwing sacks of grain at Clinton Corn like they were nothing. It seemed he could fix anything including his miraculous fix of my baby dolls broken leg. He drove his cars until they stopped running...remember the white station wagon? He would give his last dollar in his pocket and demonstrated this many times with us kids and all the grandkids. He always had to go to the grocery or Casey's for treats for the grandkids because they needed chocolate milk. He had integrity and was never afraid to speak the truth as he perceived it. And he always just asked us kids to tell the truth.
He loved to hunt but fishing was his passion. He duck hunted with his father in law until his passing and in later years he enjoyed deer hunting. Like many of us, he taught me how to shoot a gun. And he killed his first and only trophy deer during my senior year. A 21 point buck. He taught me how to fish and clean fish. I filleted hundreds of fish with him in Minnesota. I know he fished with many people but it was just he and I one afternoon working to pull in a very large Northern. Our favorite family story happened one June when Brady was old enough to drive. He had taken his brothers fishing and came home stating they threw back 80 some bass because they were too small. This happened a second day. So I decided I needed to go with. First fish caught...see mom? It's a bass...too small. But what the boys had been throwing back were very large crappies. I called my dad and within the hour my mom and dad were packed up on their way out to do some teaching complete with an illustrated book of fish. It was during that week the boys truly saw my dad in his element. We tight lined crappies off the dock and tossed them straight to the cleaning station where my dad continued to fillet. The only bass big enough that week belonged to Brenden. And as my dad made the first cut to show Brenden how it was done.., Brenden passed out and almost landed in the lake. It was a fishing story my dad loved to tell and laugh about. He loved to fish with my mom and always said, "She always catches the first fish."
He was so proud of his kids and grandkids and great grandkids. He made everyone he talked to feel like family. My friends were his friends, too. When Lora married Larry his kids were now his grandkids too. No distinction. I was asked a few days ago how I got so lucky to have five kind good sons. I answered but this week I realized the right answer. I was thinking about how all of my dads grandkids and kids are so kind. Every one. And that is a testament to my dad. It's in their genes and it's because he made each one of them feel special. That's how I got five great kids and awesome nieces and nephews.
My dad never missed one of my son Brenden's appointments in Iowa City. Just a few years ago, when Brenden and I went for his checkup, his cardiologist even asked about my dad because he was so memorable to her. And she said, "He always made sure he knew everything that was going on with you and he never missed your appointments." And for those who know what Brenden went through...that was a lot of appointments.
Through my dads life he suffered through illness and accident. He survived the front lines, a major car accident, diabetes, heart attacks, mini strokes, a catastrophic trip down the basement steps, and hip replacement which he proudly showed his scar much to our protest.....so many more things in the last few years.
Watching my dad get old was tough. But we are blessed to have a lifetime of memories to share. We will miss your jokes, your teasing, your infectious laugh. Now we're going to tell your stories, Pop.
About a week ago he felt good enough to go get some groceries. He left mom at home. And for a time he didn't return which of course worried her. But he had gone for a drive along the river and found someone to talk to. It gives me a lot of comfort knowing he took one last drive just to check things out.
Funny enough or not his initials were RIP. I think I remember him saying once when we were naming our sons to pay attention to the initials because he didn't think his mother did when she named him. But I think he enjoyed them and probably had some fun with with them. So cheers to you with some chocolate milk Pop. We would toast you with an MGD 64 but honestly no one ever really liked your beer. I bet you are having the grandest of reunions right now. May you be as your initials state and rest in peace for eternity with our Heavenly Father.
You fought the good fight
Pop... You will always be my John Wayne
Video taken by Melody Reels during my dad's Honor Flight
My dad's welcome home from the Honor Flight
Thank you for all of your kind words, hugs, and condolences.
Blessings,
Monica
