Perhaps you have heard or read of the origin of the term "redneck". Â It is often attributed to those early settlers from the European countries who spent thousands of hours in the sun working and clearing the land....so many hours that their necks became permanently burned a reddish color from the sun.
That was my dad. Â He was a feisty little Irishman with fair skin and blue eyes who worked outside all his life and was a "redneck" in the truest sense of the word. Â
My dad was always my hero. Â He was such a good man. Â He set the example of what it meant to work hard, to be a good parent, and to be a good citizen.
My dad, during the summer when the crops had to be harvested and the hay had to be cut and bailed, worked  eighteen-hour days.  His weight would drop from his normal 150 pounds to 120 in a matter of two or three months.  I have seen him even get down to a mere 115 during those hot summer months.
Somehow, though, he always found time for my brothers and me. Â He would bring our ponies in after they had roamed our pastures free all winter, saddle them, and pick us up when they threw us that first time because they hadn't been ridden for several months; Â he would help me round up what I needed to build an outside playhouse under the trees by the stream that ran a few hundred feet from our home; he would build a backstop for my brothers and lay out a ball field for them. Whatever adventure we dreamed up during our "Huckleberry Finn" childhood, Dad was never too busy to help us make it a reality.
During our school days he took us to every school activity and never missed anything in which we participated. Â Dad was truly our biggest cheerleader and our loudest fan. Â He once had words with a referee whom he thought was targeting me with bad calls during a basketball game.
In the fall Dad loved to hunt....didn't matter what, though his favorites were coons at night and quail during the day.  Dad had this theory that he owned the land, so it was his prerogative to hunt on it whenever he chose.  The game warden had a different view...so he and Dad played a game of "catch me if you can" for many years.  It was, to my knowledge, the only thing Dad every did that was technically "breaking the law."  Yes, he paid a few fines, but he kept right on hunting whenever he felt like it.
No person ever loved his country more nor was a better citizen. Â Dad's biggest regret was that he had not been allowed to serve during World War II. As the oldest son of a widowed mother, Uncle Sam deemed his services more valuable producing farm goods; thus, he was classified 4-F to remain at home while his younger brothers served.
He voted in every election, no matter how small. Â Having lived through the Depression and the Hoover days, he believed that FDR had saved this country and remained a die-hard Democrat all his life.
His favorite expression was, "Kids, listen to me and remember these words when I am gone. Â If you want hard times, just vote for a Republican; and I guarantee you'll get your wish."
I guess he did a good job because we have all been faithful Democrats all our lives.
(To Be Continued)
Â
Â
Thank you for explaining the meaning of a 'redneck'. I have so often wondered what it meant