Deer In Headlines II
By Gery Deer
In 1951, my parents, Lois and Gary, were young newlyweds who left the small, hillside towns of southeastern Ohio, for the hustle and bustle of Dayton. Escaping a poor, rural life to join the newly minted middle class of post-war America was challenging. Eventually, the life they’d built for our family came full circle, returning them – and me – to their rural roots.
Dad told me stories of their early years in the city. He rode the bus downtown from their north Dayton duplex to work at the telephone company. Soon, thanks to pressure from my mother’s family, he went to work at National Cash Register. Dayton was brimming with factory jobs in those days at companies like NCR, Delco, and Frigidaire.
Some of the factory complexes resembled small cities, with nearly everything a worker and his family could ever need. Many offered educational programs, free healthcare, recreational facilities, and extra pay for suggested improvements that saved the company money.
By the end of 1955, my parents already had two children, my brother Gary, Jr., and sister, Cathy. Before long, Dad managed to buy their first home and put a car in the driveway. A Cadillac, of course – my father’s favorite. My parents played cards with neighbors, participated in ballroom skating events at the local rink, and even hitched up the camping trailer for long weekend vacations.
Dad worked hard to make a life for us that was a total one-eighty from his Appalachian
upbringing. By the time I’d made my appearance in the late 1960s, he had created a very
“Leave it to Beaver” lifestyle for them. But soon, that idealized, if not completely artificial,
suburban world would fade into history. The world was changing and so was my family.
By the late 1970s, my brother and sister were adults with their own children, and Dad’s job situation had dramatically changed. He had long since left factory work behind for a teaching job. Thanks to an even more complex set of circumstances, we also relocated from suburbia to the farm where I would grow up which gave me a very different childhood than my siblings.
Money was tighter then, but I think there were greater rewards. Regardless of our circumstances, however, my parents managed to make us comfortable. My father used every skill he had to earn a living.
Over the years he did concrete and excavation work, operated a trucking business with my brother, became an agricultural mechanics teacher at the county vocational school, and ran our farm with my mother. Although she’d been a stay-at-home mom, she eventually took a job as a waitress to help make ends meet and grew vegetables and fruit that she sold at a stand on our farm. Looking back, I’m amazed at what they accomplished together.
I often think of how life probably turned out very differently than Mom and Dad might have envisioned, yet they never seemed unhappy. For them, as long as you had health and family, everything would be okay. Sadly, debilitating diseases slowly took each of them from us. But we were all right beside them for the journey, as they had been for us.
My parents were together for 59 years and 11 months. When my mother died, Dad was nearly inconsolable. He hadn’t known a day without her since he was 17 years old. Every day was a challenge, one they met head-on, with full force and commitment. I certainly hope that whenever they looked at their children and grandchildren all that struggle seemed worthwhile.
It’s easy to say, “Those were the days,” but I know things were often more difficult than I knew. Parents often shield kids from the more unpleasant parts of life. What we need to remember, is that you may start out a long way from where you end up, and there is no such thing as a perfect life.
I am incredibly thankful for how hard Mom and Dad worked to support us, and there are no words strong enough to convey my gratitude. We may have never been like the families on TV, but we were happy anyway. So, it’s just possible that those really were the days.
The Jamestown Comet. 