by Susan Harter

Created on: March 14, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

I always respected my father. There were four children and we lived in a small townhouse. My mother stayed at home while we were growing up, because Dad insisted that she did. Even when he lost his job as a Bus Driver due to a cataract in his eye, he insisted she stay home.

I remember him working at gas stations to make ends meet. One time, he loaded all of us in the car and headed to a special grocery store. It was like a house and cans of food were line up going down the steps. We were allowed to fill up 4 bags with whatever we needed. This was the neatest grocery store I had ever been to. Dad's pride would not let him tell us that we had gone to get help for food at a local church. It took me several years to figure out where we had actually gone to.

Mom sewed and was very good at it. Fortunately, she could take a shirt, dress, pants, or anything else you could wear and make a pattern from it and sew clothes for us to have for school. This also kept us in style, most of the time. Dad insisted we had the best shoes on our feet. During my childhood, Stride Rite shoes were top quality. He would do without to make sure this happened. For some reason, he felt this was a vital need for us.

When my father was hired as a Deputy Sheriff in a small town that he had grown up in, I was proud. This was a difficult time for me personally, because I was 13 and would be moving 150 miles away from where I had grown up. Not to mention that I was in Junior High School and now the daughter of a Deputy Sheriff. This certainly did not give me brownie points when attending the new school. Regardless, when my father put on his uniform each day it was spotless and you could not find a wrinkle in it. He always looked so handsome to me and every now and then, he would drop me off at school and I felt privileged.

Dad was strict and hard to deal with. His nickname became Edgar Fudd. He was a great provider for his family. He also had a soft spot that drove us crazy. One of his duties as a Deputy Sheriff was to attend Juvenile Court during the day. He would call my mother from work and advise her that he was bringing someone home that had been in court that day. If he felt they were not being treated right and things were not working out the best for them, they now would become our house mates. Because of this, my father gained a great deal of respect from people that were my age. As I entered High School, I would have people come and tell me how much they respected my father. They said

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