Carla’s Story


I recently went to a funeral for a relative and a gal named Carla told the following story:



“Now that Dad has died, I have been asked to say a few words about the memories I have of him. I remember as a little girl I would ride with Dad through some of the desolate roads in Nevada. He would take me along to look at sites for the Agriculture Extension Program. He had a humorous way of looking at life and would make up songs of his own. One of the songs I remember included the lyrics of: “Never hit your mother in the head with a shovel, for it could leave a bad impression on her mind.”


Dad had a funny way of driving. The isolated Nevada roads were long, straight and boring and he frequently did not get much sleep between trips. There were no speed limits then and he would start out at 90 mph and slowly drop to 60 mph before he would suddenly wake up and resume his speed and after a time, do it again. I was too timid to say anything about it and he always kept the car straight. Thank goodness that this was before cruise control.


On one occasion he started out at 90 and slowly decreased his speed to zero with me holding on to the steering wheel during the last of the distance. When we finally came to a stop I screamed, ‘Dad!” and he woke up.


During one road trip, I was asleep on the back seat and my brother was in the front seat, visiting with Dad. We stopped for gasoline and a bathroom break; the stop woke me up and while they were gone, I left for the girl’s bathroom.


When they came out they were talking and thought that I was still asleep in the back seat. They left without me. I watched them disappearing into the distance and started walking in the direction they were traveling. About a half hour later they returned down that same road and we were together again. It was a pretty scary experience for me but I learned later that my brother said to my Dad, where is Karla? Dad looked at the back seat and said, ‘What the heck,’ and turned around. I love you, Dad and I’ll never forget you!!”