Four Boys and Bob

By: Dr. Doug Ford, Production Animal Consultation, & Dr. Greg Quakenbush, Geissler Corp.

This week I received word that another one of my childhood friends had passed away. Brent was the second oldest of five of the orneriest boys ever put on this earth. I say that in a fun-loving, endearing way. Bill, the oldest brother, was three years my senior. Brent was one year older and my best friend Bob (Robert Chadwick) was one year younger. The two youngest boys, Bruce and Jim, ran in a different circle.

Their father Gordon was an executive with a large oil company, and their mother Helen was an intelligent, beautiful, gentle, articulate woman who worked full time as a charge nurse at a large metropolitan hospital.

On the surface, everything seemed perfect on the home front. Leave It to Beaver and Father Knows Best all rolled into one perfect package, but time would reveal a different plot. Like so many veterans returning from active duty in World War II, Gordon was left with serious mental scars acquired in battle. He was all Navy and had endured a long tour of duty at sea on a Navy destroyer in the Pacific. As I remember, he never smiled, hardly spoke and seemed on the surface rather mean spirited.

I always felt conflicted and uncomfortable in his presence. Reflecting back, I finally realized he suffered from what we now know as PTSD. To this day, I regret not feeling compassion for the man. In the good old days, the treatment for shell shock syndrome was “suck it up, you are one of America’s greatest generation”. If you were a takecharge sort of guy, like most WWII veterans, you could selfmedicate, which is what he did. As I remember his drug of choice was scotch and two six packs of leaded Budweiser, every night, weekends included, topped off by a large rare sirloin steak most every evening (hold the veggies). Two packs of Lucky’s a day (no filter) were also part of his therapeutic regime.

Today he would be classified as a functioning alcoholic. This was a somewhat socially acceptable addiction, considering his circumstances and the time period. He was not an affectionate user as evidenced by the holes in the walls and doors throughout the house. Sadly, alcohol abuse affected every member of the family and to some degree continues to this day. Bob is the sole survivor of the core family of seven. Looking back, Bob and I were more like brothers than his biological siblings. He and I spent every spare minute exploring every abandoned farmstead, every pool and bend along Bear Creek. Bear Creek originates above timberline on Mt. Evans and flows into the South Platte River near Chatfield Reservoir. I still recall campfire scrambled eggs and extra crispy bacon. Wood ash from the fire served as our special custom seasoning.

I remember graduating from BB guns to pellet guns to .22s and 20-gauge single shots. We were a couple of real Daniel Boones. Shooting ducks, geese and trophy-sized mule deer. Tracking and trapping red fox, coyotes and muskrats. Catching rainbow trout and largemouth bass. Packing horses in the mountains and sharing all life had to offer huddled up to a warm campfire PRN (as needed).

Bob was quite charismatic and outgoing, while I was more introverted and shy. We complimented each other well. Bob was 6’2”, dark complected, used outboard motor oil for suntan lotion and would fight at the drop of a hat, winning most altercations. This came in handy on the occasions when my mouth got us in trouble. He always had my back. Gordon always described his litter as four boys and Bob, shining a spotlight on Bob’s knack for attracting trouble. I always knew when Bob had stepped across the line with Chief Petty Officer Gordon Dawson. He would show up at school with red tear-stained swollen eyes and his head would be completely shaved to bare skin. His name was changed from Bob to “Robert Chadwick Dawson, you worthless little bastard” for several weeks, until the next inevitable round. If he still had afternoon tears, it meant he would probably have to walk the plank when he got home. Sometimes his hair would only grow a quarter inch before he was placed back on report. The most predictable and humorous part of his sentence involved painting the 6-foot solid wooden fence that bordered the property. This was always part of the atonement for his latest sin. After 40 years the wooden fence finally blew over, held together only by 100 coats of lead-based paint. Enough lead to make a 12weight Holstein steer go permanently blind.

In our teens, it became more apparent that the root of Bob’s trials was alcohol. What started out as boyish mischief (compromise or sin) morphed into a life-threatening crisis. Our friendship was eventually very challenged. He was stuck in the present with Demon Rum as I moved into the next season of life. The crossroad in our friendship came the day after he was pulled over for drunk driving on his bicycle while singing “Maria, Maria! I just met a girl named Maria!” at the top of his lungs on College Avenue in Fort Collins, Colorado. Hilarious yet heart breaking when you know the painful history.

Frustrated, in a serious moment I asked him, “Why are you on this one-way path to destruction?” I will never forget his four-word response as it has changed my life and somewhat haunted me ever since. He simply said, “I watched my father.”

As parents, grandparents, spouses, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins, friends and employers, it is paramount that we lead by example with consistent execution of deep core values. As it turns out, people really are watching, looking for a rock-solid example, someone understanding yet never wavering. With every choice there is a decision depending upon your point of reference. Which direction will your conscience and moral compass point? The pain of discipline is always minor compared to the relentless pain of regret. Self-control, discipline (not the head-shaving kind) and love will always lead down the best path. Why do most of us have to learn the hard way, going back for a second helping of what failed miserably the first time?

The best lessons in life are when we recognize there is a problem, ask for forgiveness and decide to take a different path. Then openly receive God’s mercy and grace. Your focus will create your feelings and the instruction you follow will determine the future you create.

Epilogue:

Bob has not touched alcohol for over 25 years. We are to this day best friends and communicate on a regular basis. He still remembers my birthday. Bob credits God’s grace in healing his childhood scars and addiction. His misery has become his ministry. Today when I ask him about his joy and freedom he only smiles and says, “I watch my Father.”

Bill, the oldest son, passed away in August. He served in the Navy during Vietnam and later became a plumber by trade. After many hard years of following in his earthly father’s footsteps, Christ healed his wounded heart. Ultimately, he became a Baptist minister. His misery became an even larger ministry experiencing life on both sides of the equation. There is no greater teacher than real life experience seasoned with God’s magnificent wisdom. Bill was buried at Fort Logan cemetery with full military honors. This was an experience to witness.

In his service one of the speakers reminded us that “without the home of the brave, we wouldn’t have the land of the free”. So many have paid a dear price for freedom in our country.

Always remember Christ also paid the price for a different kind of freedom. Don’t forget, watch your Father.

Digging Deeper:

The story about Bob and the contrast between two different fathers is not a unique one. We each have an earthly father and potentially a heavenly Father. Frequently, the impact of one’s earthly father distorts the reality of the heavenly Father. People tend to take their experience with an earthly dad and paint God the Father with the same brush.

Matthew 7:11: 11 If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!

All fathers are imperfect, and the best dads will fail and fall short. Hearing about a loving, caring and merciful heavenly Father will only ring hollow when your earthly example was absent, abusive, indifferent and so forth.

Man was created in the “image of God” and one of the things that separates man from the rest of creation (animals) is that we were created with a need for fathers. That is, for fathering “done right”, not sperm donors. As culture moves toward darkness and rejection of the truth in God’s Word, the distortion and damage from fathering “done wrong” is literally destroying our society and values. Consider the following statistics from homes without fathers (not counting abusive or indifferent fathers):

• “43% of U.S. children live without their father [U.S. Department of Census]” 1

• “85% of children who exhibit behavioral disorders come from fatherless homes. [Center for Disease Control]” 1

• “63% of youth suicides are from fatherless homes. [U.S. D.H.H.S., Bureau of the Census]” 1

• “71% of pregnant teenagers lack a father. [U.S. Department of Health and Human Services press release, Friday, March 26, 1999]” 1

• “85% of all youths in prison come from fatherless homes – 20 times the average. (Fulton Co. Georgia, Texas Dept. of Correction)” 1

• Boys raised without fathers are likely to become absent fathers themselves.

The transformation of Bob came only when he was adopted into a new family with a new Father. Only by joining His heavenly family could he experience fathering “done right”. To fully gain the benefits of a perfect Father it requires the development of a relationship, the basis of which is built through Bible study, prayer and time together.

John 1:12-13: 1 2 But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

The following articles have been translated into Spanish: