by Douglas Samuelson

Created on: April 26, 2008

I was raised on a farm in the mid-west during the 40's and 50's. Although we were not poor, we did not have a lot of luxuries such as lots of toys, fancy clothing, expensive cars, and family vacations. I had two brothers and one sister. I was the eldest child.

My father was a good man. He did not drink or swear. He was a hard-worker. He was kind-hearted but stern. He had only a grade school education but he was intelligent beyond words. He was an avid reader and most of his reading was about nature, more specifically the far North (Canada and Alaska). His one vice was fishing. For thirty years, he and four of his friends would pack up and head North to Canada as far as they could drive, for a ten day outing. I did not know until after his death how much my Mother resented those trips.

I would consider my child hood as quite normal and I have many pleasant memories of my childhood. My parents seldom quarreled and there was never any physical violence in our family. The closest thing to physical abuse from my father was a swat on the seat of my pants with his hand but it never hurt. That was all it took for him to convey his message. Although he was a loving father, he seldom expressed his feelings with words. I can only remember twice in his lifetime that he told me that he loved me. The first time was in my late teens when my heart was broken by a high school sweetheart, and once two weeks before he died at the age of 74.

My father taught me the importance of hard work and honesty. He also taught me to be clean and well groomed. If we would have a good year on the farm, he would go to town after the harvest, and buy a new suit, which he seldom wore. I have a picture of him taken before he married my Mother. He had on a suit, vest, tie, hat, and white spats. One foot was on the running board of his new '34 Chevy coupe. I teased him one time, telling him that he looked like Al Capone.

At the end of my senior year of high school, I was required to write an essay about my future life. I was not a good student, but my English teacher gave me an A+ and told the class that my essay was the best of the class. It is still packed away in an antique steamer trunk in my living room. In my essay, I stated that I wanted to marry a beautiful dark-haired woman, have two children, and own an automobile dealership. A few years later, my dreams came true.

I married a beautiful, dark haired woman. She was not only beautiful, she was very smart and she was an accomplished pianist.

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