Daddy Memory

 You know....grief is a curious thing ... memories are a curious thing....

They both just pop up out of NOWHERE and surprise you.  It is odd at what can trigger memories.

This morning on the way to work, I was sitting at a red light, in the rain, behind an 18-wheeler gasoline hauler.  The company was Florida Rock & Tank Lines.  My dad worked for them but he he didn't drive for them.

He drove for Mabbett Hauling Company, later they promoted him to dispatcher, then Terminal Manager.  After he was Terminal Manager for several years, they sold the company to Florida Rock & Tank Lines.  

Anyway....

This truck that I was sitting behind at the red light, didn't have a ladder on the back of it and I was wonder...how does he get to the top of the trailer? (Which is where the gas is loaded into the truck).

Thinking of the ladder, made me recall that when we were small and lived in Columbus, GA and my dad was a driver at the time...we sometimes would go visit him at the Crown Terminal, which is where he parked his truck and also loaded the gasoline into the truck for hauling.

We loved to go when he was loading the truck because he was on this really tall structure (similar to the photo below) and hoses when from the structure and he would have to put them in the top of the trailer to load the gasoline inside.

 

Well..this structure was about 6 feet away from the truck so to get from the structure to the top of the truck, my dad hung a rope up.  He would grab the roper and swing from the structure to the top of the trailer....like Tarzan.

When we were visiting, he would grab the rope, swing over and do the Tarzan yell for us (not as good as Carol Burnett does but we knew it was the Tarzan yell)

 We'd get such a kick out of that.  I wish I had some photos of him doing that but back in the late 1960s, you just didn't take photos much because film and developing were expensive, plus who carried a camera around for everyday things - cameras were mostly pulled out for birthdays, holidays and vacations only.  

But it doesn't matter - I do have a picture of it - in my mind of daddy grabbing that rope, swinging across and yelling like Tarzan just to amuse his little kids.

Just a sweet memory.  I sure miss him, I miss him so much.