Tomorrow, March 1, 2013, we lay to rest my grandfather. Franklin Hancock. I really don't know what to say other than I've lost a great role model in my life.
How can I say that? I grew up 1600 miles away from this man. However, I feel I can say this because every chance I got to see this man, he was always great. I don't remember seeing him until I was 11. I got to fly out to Arizona on my 11th birthday. I spent some time with my dad, then got to spend about a week with Grandpa Frank and Grandma Molly. I won't even begin to try and calculate what age he was at that point, but I know he was on up there. And he was still working. The man always worked. Why, because he wanted to. That's what a man does. But this man was different. No matter how busy he was, no matter how many projects he had going, he always made time for me when I was out here. He always made time for everyone. I don't know that I ever saw him mad. I don't know that I ever heard him raise his voice. He was a man that commanded respect, simply because he was. If ever a man to grace this Earth with positive thoughts, love, joy, happiness, his name was Frank Hancock.
Even when it was a serious time, he was smiling, and he'd make others smile and laugh. He was always up to something crazy, just to see people smile. You couldn't dislike this man. Grandpa Frank was the type of person that would give you the shirt off his back. I know you hear this a lot, but he was also the type that would make sure you had shoes and a decent pair of pants and even something to eat right along with that shirt.
He could fix anything. Even in his later years in life he was always wiring up something, fixing a car, building a house or a workshop, etc. In the few times I got to see him, I don't think he ever slowed down. I remember coming out in 2009, with my wife and 2 kids, hauling a camper with the Suburban. We broke down in Pecos, Texas with a blown waterpump. Spent a few days in Pecos and came in to Safford where we parked at Grandpa's. The Suburban still wasn't working right, so Grandpa checks it out and discovers a messed up water hose, and a few other minor things not working properly. Without missing a beat he tells me to hop in the car and we go in to town. Now, Safford Arizona isn't a huge town, but it's no longer a small town, definitely not as small as I remember from my earlier visits. EVERY SINGLE PLACE we went, everyone knew Grandpa. Calling him Mr. Frank, or Mr. Hancock as he walked in the door. I was simply amazed at the respect these people had for him! We finally find a place that has the right hose....kind of. Instead of it being the exact part, he spies a roll of hose on the wall off to the side. Tells the guy "I need about 9 inches of that 1 1/4 inch hose, how much is it?" They worked out the the details and we came home and it was exactly what was needed, to the centimeter. The tricky part, I don't recall Grandpa ever pulling any kind of measuring device to get what he needed. That may be old hat for some, but to me, that simply amazed me.
Grandpa Frank, as I said before was a very kind man. He never met a stranger. A good portion my family, my wife isn't overly fond of and is only social with them because of me. She instantly loved my grandpa. Same as both my kids. For my son that's not hard to do. For my daughter, well, that's another story. I only regret that my kids couldn't spend more time with such a great man, and that they didn't get to see him one last time before he passed away. I only hope I can scrounge some pictures to save his memories.
Grandpa was a deeply religious man, but not an overbearing religious man. He'd talk with anyone about religion, not at you. He was happy to share the Mormon ways and beliefs, but it was never in a way you felt like it being thrown on you. He spent many years doing for the Mormon church and to my knowledge never had any problems with the church or felt like he was being used or abused. He will be buried in Mormon dress clothes.
Frank Hancock, as you've read here, was a man of many things. He loved the outdoors, he loved fun things, he loved to work. He was a very physical man with his hands. As he aged, he looked like he was as mean as a bear and had a slight growl to his voice. But never a kinder, more gentler man would you meet. He's a man I aspire to be like. If I can only be 1 1/10th of the man he was, I will know I have accomplished something. We lost a very great man this week...I hope those who knew him have as great a collection of memories as I do, or even better.
Franklin Hancock. Husband. Father. Grandfather. Great-grandfather. Mentor. Teacher. Hard worker. Devout Mormon. A person to love and to be loved by. Respected and respectful. I pray I can live in your legacy. Rest in Peace Grandpa. I hope you get your finger back...
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
The Southern Way
I may have been born somewhere else, but as my wife likes to point out, I grew up in the South, so that makes me a Southerner. And you know, I think I've finally realized that I'm proud of that fact. And here's some reasons why.
I go out and about, and some of these young kids and even some young adults who have the maturity of young kids just shock me. Had I even thought about acting the way they do when I was that age...well, there'd be a LOT of trouble, and it'd all be on me.
As a Southerner:
You learn to say yes mam and yes sir, or you get smacked if you don't. And even as you get older, you still feel the urge to duck if you miss the chance to say yes mam or yes sir to your elders. That's called respect. You learn it, you earn it.
We did things because we wanted to, not because of gain. If we had a reason to do something, it was most likely "would my mom/grandmother approve?" If the answer was no, we had to think about it really hard. Even to this day, I ask myself that same question, and I hope every day that I'd make my grandmother proud of what I do.
You weren't afraid to get out and get your hands dirty to help someone in need, whether it's a friend, family or stranger. Changing a tire for someone should be second nature if you grew up in the south. Helping someone in the yard was something to do because you were either bored, or you didn't have anything else to do.
If I got in trouble, I knew there was a belt, a hickory switch, or a paddle waiting for me when I next saw my mom. Furthermore, If I got in trouble at a friend's house, I knew there was a belt, a hickory switch, or a paddle waiting for me by my friend's parents. They had that right. And vice versa when my friends came to my house. And then, we likely got it again when we got home!
Words like COURTESY and HOSPITALITY are something you know, and practice all the times. Not just a phone line you hear at a hotel or airport.
We didn't have iPods and iPads and PSP's and MP3's and all those other abbreviations for electronic babysitter. We had OUTDOORS. Where we found sticks to run with, trees to climb and enjoy for shade, and grassy hills to slide and roll down while we wrestled with our friends. Other fun things we did was help Grandpa or Dad work on the car (see: changing tires or helping others), or work in the yard. On the occasion that we did stay inside to play, we might have watched a bit of TV, but as soon as the cartoons were off, we were looking for something to do or we did this action called "read a book".
Smart phone? When I was a kid, our phone was smart. It was smart enough to contact the person whom we dialed, and that was that. And it sat there, in the living room, or hanging on the wall in the kitchen. And there was certainly no way as a kid I was going to have a phone to play with and call or text people all the time. And another thing. As a kid in the South, we knew the difference between your and you're, there and their, to, too, and two. We learned that in school, and we remembered it. If you wanted to 'text' someone, you took a pencil and a piece of paper, you wrote something down, and you passed it along hoping the teacher wouldn't catch you.
We had chores to do, and we didn't complain about it. Or at least, we didn't complain out loud, because we got in trouble. And getting in trouble usually meant some sort of physical contact of a hard object across your back side, enabling you with the ability of standing up for a meal instead of sitting.
We knew what a gun was, and we knew not to mess with it unless an adult was present, or we were given permission. We didn't run around threatening people with them. We saw the older school kids parking their trucks at school and occasionally we saw a gun on the rack in the back window, and nobody thought anything of it. That changed with the 90's, when kids became stupid and irresponsible, and Rap became more violent, and less music and something fun to listen to. Yes kids, Rap was once something enjoyable where people didn't do drugs, rape women and kill people. Look up Run DMC (one of their greats were when they teamed up with Aerosmith for "Walk This Way"!), Fat Boys, LL Cool J ( the guy from the 80's. Some of his stuff changed, but he was still pretty good.) Even some white guys had fun with rapping. They were called The Beastie Boys.
Music was totally different by the way. We had Southern Rock, and Hair Bands, and some of the harder stuff. Now, you have screeching, screaming and people who sound like their gargling with a mouth full of glass. That, or Justin Bieber. I won't even begin on him. Music has definitely changed, and it's one of the things that make me feel old really fast. I remember my parents griping at me for listening to 'that garbage'. Now, some of this stuff today, I wouldn't insult garbage by calling it that.
People as a whole were a lot nicer when I was a kid. The Southern way of things. A glass of iced tea, a shade tree, and kids riding bicycles while talking about girls or trading G I Joes. Spending the day in the woods playing with toy guns or even sticks was the norm. Staying out from the time you get out of the house as soon as possible in the morning, until dusk or when the street lights came on. Then the streets looked like a ghost town. My mom dated a guy for a while who could whistle so loud, I thought the kids in Georgia could hear him. When we heard that, we had 5 minutes to get home. And we were.We pretty much could go wherever we wanted to as long as we knew what time to be home. Wanna talk about being good in Math? Have you ever calculated how long it'd take you to get from Billy's house to home by curfew and at varying speeds? Yeah. We did that. Without hesitation.
Some of you parents my age or older, I bet you're reading this and nodding your head with a silent 'yup'. You people younger than me are probably scoffing at this or laughing at the old guy. But stop and think for a minute. How many times have you been in trouble? How many times do you look the other way or not pay attention to your children, and how often are they in trouble? A paddle or belt across the back side only hurts for a few minutes to your child, but they'll think twice about doing whatever they did again if they know you're gonna do it again...
Somewhere along the way, we've abandoned parenting. Not forgot, just abandoned. Oh sure, we want to have kids, or we want to do the actions that cause kids, but we don't think about, nor want to deal with the consequences. That's where it starts, and it only gets worse.
Pull up your pants, get a belt, your hat either goes forwards or backwards, not sideways. Buy clothes that fit, and take that attitude and stuff it. Grow up to be responsible. Like your parents. Or your Grandparents.
It's the Southen Way.
I go out and about, and some of these young kids and even some young adults who have the maturity of young kids just shock me. Had I even thought about acting the way they do when I was that age...well, there'd be a LOT of trouble, and it'd all be on me.
As a Southerner:
You learn to say yes mam and yes sir, or you get smacked if you don't. And even as you get older, you still feel the urge to duck if you miss the chance to say yes mam or yes sir to your elders. That's called respect. You learn it, you earn it.
We did things because we wanted to, not because of gain. If we had a reason to do something, it was most likely "would my mom/grandmother approve?" If the answer was no, we had to think about it really hard. Even to this day, I ask myself that same question, and I hope every day that I'd make my grandmother proud of what I do.
You weren't afraid to get out and get your hands dirty to help someone in need, whether it's a friend, family or stranger. Changing a tire for someone should be second nature if you grew up in the south. Helping someone in the yard was something to do because you were either bored, or you didn't have anything else to do.
If I got in trouble, I knew there was a belt, a hickory switch, or a paddle waiting for me when I next saw my mom. Furthermore, If I got in trouble at a friend's house, I knew there was a belt, a hickory switch, or a paddle waiting for me by my friend's parents. They had that right. And vice versa when my friends came to my house. And then, we likely got it again when we got home!
Words like COURTESY and HOSPITALITY are something you know, and practice all the times. Not just a phone line you hear at a hotel or airport.
We didn't have iPods and iPads and PSP's and MP3's and all those other abbreviations for electronic babysitter. We had OUTDOORS. Where we found sticks to run with, trees to climb and enjoy for shade, and grassy hills to slide and roll down while we wrestled with our friends. Other fun things we did was help Grandpa or Dad work on the car (see: changing tires or helping others), or work in the yard. On the occasion that we did stay inside to play, we might have watched a bit of TV, but as soon as the cartoons were off, we were looking for something to do or we did this action called "read a book".
Smart phone? When I was a kid, our phone was smart. It was smart enough to contact the person whom we dialed, and that was that. And it sat there, in the living room, or hanging on the wall in the kitchen. And there was certainly no way as a kid I was going to have a phone to play with and call or text people all the time. And another thing. As a kid in the South, we knew the difference between your and you're, there and their, to, too, and two. We learned that in school, and we remembered it. If you wanted to 'text' someone, you took a pencil and a piece of paper, you wrote something down, and you passed it along hoping the teacher wouldn't catch you.
We had chores to do, and we didn't complain about it. Or at least, we didn't complain out loud, because we got in trouble. And getting in trouble usually meant some sort of physical contact of a hard object across your back side, enabling you with the ability of standing up for a meal instead of sitting.
We knew what a gun was, and we knew not to mess with it unless an adult was present, or we were given permission. We didn't run around threatening people with them. We saw the older school kids parking their trucks at school and occasionally we saw a gun on the rack in the back window, and nobody thought anything of it. That changed with the 90's, when kids became stupid and irresponsible, and Rap became more violent, and less music and something fun to listen to. Yes kids, Rap was once something enjoyable where people didn't do drugs, rape women and kill people. Look up Run DMC (one of their greats were when they teamed up with Aerosmith for "Walk This Way"!), Fat Boys, LL Cool J ( the guy from the 80's. Some of his stuff changed, but he was still pretty good.) Even some white guys had fun with rapping. They were called The Beastie Boys.
Music was totally different by the way. We had Southern Rock, and Hair Bands, and some of the harder stuff. Now, you have screeching, screaming and people who sound like their gargling with a mouth full of glass. That, or Justin Bieber. I won't even begin on him. Music has definitely changed, and it's one of the things that make me feel old really fast. I remember my parents griping at me for listening to 'that garbage'. Now, some of this stuff today, I wouldn't insult garbage by calling it that.
People as a whole were a lot nicer when I was a kid. The Southern way of things. A glass of iced tea, a shade tree, and kids riding bicycles while talking about girls or trading G I Joes. Spending the day in the woods playing with toy guns or even sticks was the norm. Staying out from the time you get out of the house as soon as possible in the morning, until dusk or when the street lights came on. Then the streets looked like a ghost town. My mom dated a guy for a while who could whistle so loud, I thought the kids in Georgia could hear him. When we heard that, we had 5 minutes to get home. And we were.We pretty much could go wherever we wanted to as long as we knew what time to be home. Wanna talk about being good in Math? Have you ever calculated how long it'd take you to get from Billy's house to home by curfew and at varying speeds? Yeah. We did that. Without hesitation.
Some of you parents my age or older, I bet you're reading this and nodding your head with a silent 'yup'. You people younger than me are probably scoffing at this or laughing at the old guy. But stop and think for a minute. How many times have you been in trouble? How many times do you look the other way or not pay attention to your children, and how often are they in trouble? A paddle or belt across the back side only hurts for a few minutes to your child, but they'll think twice about doing whatever they did again if they know you're gonna do it again...
Somewhere along the way, we've abandoned parenting. Not forgot, just abandoned. Oh sure, we want to have kids, or we want to do the actions that cause kids, but we don't think about, nor want to deal with the consequences. That's where it starts, and it only gets worse.
Pull up your pants, get a belt, your hat either goes forwards or backwards, not sideways. Buy clothes that fit, and take that attitude and stuff it. Grow up to be responsible. Like your parents. Or your Grandparents.
It's the Southen Way.
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