Cats in the Cradle

We were heading south on I-17, about halfway to Phoenix and Vickie turned to me and broke the silence, “Bet you’re looking forward to seeing your boy”? I would’ve replied but frankly I can choke up pretty easily and immediately I had a lump in my throat. My thoughts quickly turned to about 23 years ago and a little shack of a restaurant located on Highway 26 just west of Casper, Wyoming. Herbo’s was the name and I have no idea if it is still open today…doesn’t matter because it gave me the start…that little hole in the wall steak joint was where Harrison and I would go before school. We’d get one or two pancakes, slather them with butter, drizzle syrup all over the top and then share what I still consider to be the best breakfast I’ve ever had…somehow I’m not sure it was the pancakes?

Harrison was just a little tike, less than a year old and we would sit together sharing those pancakes. This came before I would drop him off at the baby-sitter and shuffle off to start my day teaching at AJ Woods School for special needs kids. The baby sitter was Mary and she was a full blooded Hopi Indian. She was one of those ladies that you can’t forget. I’m not sure how I came across her but she was indeed an angel and a blessing for a dad who didn’t want to drop his baby off…not just to anyone, then again, Mary wasn’t just anyone. When I would return several hours later for my boy, he would be tucked up under her arms…snuggled up like she had done so many others. It was comfort that I needed and God sent my way.

Through the years-that little boy and I…we’ve hunted pheasants in a good number of places and states. I can still say to this day that Harrison is the only other pheasant hunter that I have had along that could keep up with me for an entire day. A few years back we were lucky enough to get to hunt together on a cold, snowy morning in West-Central Kansas…about an hour north of Dodge City. It had snowed a half foot or so of fresh snow the night before and I hustled to a little spot I knew; we got there in time to have the sun rising over our shoulders. We quietly turned out a couple of Shorthairs, eased our way down along a fence line and when we neared a corner choked full of wild sunflower and weeds all heck broke loose. We flushed a good hundred pheasants over the hill and right into a patch of grass that must have been 60 acres. The next hour was ‘magic’ as the dogs pointed and Harrison and I made short work on 8 rooster pheasants. In fact we had to unload and walk the county road back to grandpa and the truck. It was an outdoor hour locked into my memory bank and I hope I don’t ever forget it.

Me and that same little boy…we’ve fished all over. Harrison knows how to handle a fly-rod as well as he knows how to shoot an over/under shotgun. The two of us were fishing Bennet Spring just below the main bridge in zone two a few years back. He was taking a break and had my camera; he was taking photos and even filmed me land a big rainbow. As we turned the corner back to the north we looked ahead and we had the entire stream to ourselves. Over the next hour we casted and caught fish…one after the other and at one point Harrison hooked up with what would be his biggest trout ever-a real bruiser of 21 inches. I quickly took my camera out of my vest, over the next 5 minutes I filmed as Harrison carefully worked and eventually landed his prize. The look on his face as he netted this big female rainbow was good for this dad’s heart. We snapped some photos and then watched as the beautiful fish eased its way back down to the pool it had come from. We packed it up and walked back the ½ mile to the duplex and as we did we talked about his life and future. It was a day that I hope I don’t ever forget.

I wouldn’t have chosen Phoenix for Harrison; guess my dad wouldn’t have chosen Wyoming for me either. You see I left Indiana in August of 1986. I put Bloomington in my rear view and set off on a journey; one that saw me grow…it was the seed that allowed me to be the teacher I am today. June of 1992 found me ‘back home again in Indiana’. I would move my teaching career from Wyoming to Edgewood High School and I must say it was a great fit; I’ve loved the school and the community ever since. It was in this community that my little boy started to pay attention to what dad did. He was in tow for a bunch for volleyball games, school functions and even during high school when he would come into my room for lunch and various things.

It was during this same time that I too started to pay attention. As a parent you start to see your kid’s strengths and right there in the middle of this quiet, charming, good golfer…was this giant heart. Didn’t matter who it was he was quick to defend the defenseless. Harrison was a part of our Best Friends Club; I watched and paid attention as he would go out of his way to help many of our special needs students. I guess I hoped, hoped that he might just follow in my path. I told him on many occasions that there were more noble things in life than the chase of a dollar bill.

Now most of you probably know the great Harry Chapin hit, Cats in the Cradle. One line really hit home this week…”Well, he came home from college just the other day, So much like a man I just had to say-Son I’m proud of you…can you sit for a while”? Unlike the song…Harrison and I sat there alongside his apartment’s pool and talked education, we talked kids, teaching, techniques and his love for these kids that haven’t had it as lucky as most of us. There in front of me wasn’t my little boy…there was my little man, all grown up and yes…there’s a lump in my throat at this very moment.

Those long walks, hours spent hunting and fishing in nature, just me and my little boy…they were worth more than gold! I hope you will grab a camera, hiking stick, shotgun, rifle, fly-rod or just your kids hand…and go forth and Enjoy the Great Outdoors.