Eddie Lowe
Just A Thought
Have you ever read a quote that was so deep and close to home that your eyes filled with tears? Here’s one such quote that evoked deep emotion in me.
“You can meet your dad before you were born. He doesn’t know who you are. What would you say to him?”
I’d like to add to that quote and put that you are the same age or, even better, a little older than him. My dad was 36 years old when I was born, and already had two daughters. Later, a younger sister would come along leaving me the only boy. As I reflect on myself at the age of 36 years old, I remember, even at that age, that poor decisions could still be made, and life certainly wasn’t cut and dry, as we all can attest.
For the sake of the quote, I’d prefer to go back further to 1958 when my dad was 23 and would marry my mom. Many stories, mostly funny ones, were told to me from that era. My mom and dad started out in what was called a “Jim Walter home,” which was basically a prefab ordered home to which the builders would come out to your land and build the outside structure and then you finished the inside, somewhat like the modular homes we have today.
In approximately 1958-1961, my parents had their first home, followed by their first child in 1960. In North Carolina, the winter of 1960 was particularly brutal. It snowed every Wednesday of March and was recorded as being one of the coldest months on record for the state. At just 23 years old, my dad had failed to insulate the new home and they suffered. He later told me that everyone was snowed in and he had to resort to removing boards from the porch for firewood and even burned some of the furniture!
My mom later told me they had a small coal stove and the wind blew so hard that winter that it blew the soot back down the chimney. At that time their firstborn slept in an open dresser drawer and mom said in the morning they’d all have soot on their faces. It was at that point I would have loved to have told him that they would survive and they would get through this… and suggest that maybe he finish insulating the house.
It was somewhere along this time that my dad was drafted and went to Fort Jackson, South Carolina. During this time, all males were drafted and served. My father later told me that he missed Mom fiercely and, of course, at his young age he hated being ordered what to do. I guess, if I could speak to him during this time, I’d remind him that this is how the Army works and suggestions aren’t up for discussion.
It would be in the next few years that my dad would be diagnosed with a rare disease and spend months in a hospital in Maryland. It was later determined that he had caught the disease, which was spread by rats, from working on furnaces. This was a dark time for him, in which he laid bedridden until he had learned to walk again. I’m certain that he would have loved some encouragement.
Thankfully he got better and would start some of the best years of his life. During this time in the mid to late ‘60s, his love of boating began. Many happy memories were later told of long summer weekends spent on Claytor Lake and learning to water ski. Most of the old Polaroid pictures I have of him were from this era. If I could meet him then, my advice would be to enjoy this time to the fullest because youth is fleeting.
I came along in 1971, and the lake years were soon to come to a close as bills would mount, and life presented new challenges. One of his greatest dreams was to open a restaurant. Around the early ‘80s, that dream came true in downtown Mt. Airy. His little café was called “The Chow House” and, although short-lived, this small window to his past was also a grand time for me as well. I remember making my own soda from the soda fountains in the café to this day. One of the grandest papers I have is his license for business. If I could speak to him during this stage, I’d tell him to hold on a little longer, if he could.
At the close of the ‘80s, life found my dad working as a night watchman. I’m sure time seemed to drag, but soon he would take on another role of being a poppa to grandkids. I must say, I feel this was one of his shining moments. One might surmise that this seems like a simple life to read about. But as I write this, I remember a man I called my dad. A man who I carry in my heart and look more like with each passing year. I remember him for who he was, a man who tried, a man who failed at times, but a man who left fond memories for me and my kids. A man who loved to read and would amaze me with his knowledge as we watched Jeopardy and he would rattle off the answers. A man whom I am named after, Frank Lowe.
