Roofing

My friend George suggested I blog about roofing.  Okaaaaaay.

My Dad was a roofer in the years following World War II. In those days consumer products were scarce, but for some reason roofing materials were plentiful. An ambitious young man, Dad made it his goal to cover the rooftops of Portland. It was hard physical labor, however, and after several years, he decided to complete his education and go into teaching.

From improving the rooftops of houses, Dad moved to improving the noggins of Portland's youth. He dedicated the rest of his working life to his students and delighted in their progress. Even his summers were devoted to teaching as he and many of his fellow educators converted our country home along the Clackamas River into a summer camp for boys and girls who struggled with their studies.

Nevertheless, Dad still knew and appreciated a good roof when he saw one. Long after he retired from teaching, he employed our friend Dave Day to re-roof his house. "That's a good roof--one I'd have been proud to put my own stamp on," he said.

Yes, Dad was a good roofer. And he was an even better teacher.  Over the years, many of his former students came back to thank him for setting them on a course that led to college and beyond.

I'm proud of my Dad for the man that he was. Roofer or teacher, he believed in doing the very best job possible.  Thank you, God, for the memories I have of my Dad.