A Real Man

Yesterday we celebrated the life of Dillard Wright, Jr. I had the honor to call him my father-in-law for the past 39 years. We will miss him but he has now been reunited with his 12 brothers and sisters. Just this morning it was announced that his older sister had died, she was 96. The one thing that rang out yesterday from shared memories was how Dillard made people feel valued.

The quote goes like this “life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, “Wow what a ride!”. I believe that sums up how Dillard lived his life. 

Dillard was what I would call a man’s man. He did not need the spotlight. He did not need the things of the world. Dillard was a worker and could he ever work. If you have had the good fortune to shake hands with Dillard, you could likely feel the years of work on his palms, in his fingers. Dillard was a man who never got in a hurry. If you have ever had a meal with him, you know what I mean. If you have ever tried to leave his house after visit, you know what I mean because he would say “what’s your hurry?”

Two songs come to mind when I think of Dillard, John Denver’s, Thank God I’m a Country Boy and John Mellencamp’s, Small Town. These two songs exemplify Dillard’s life. He tried the city life in Cincinnati working in a factory—I can’t imagine Dillard living in the city. I for sure can’t imagine him working in a factory or office. He was a man that was made for the outdoors.

He was a man filled with sayings, almost “Dillard Wright Proverbs” you might call them. Most of his sayings had to do with work, having a purpose, family, the mind and how you should go about life. One was, everyone was given a talent. God didn’t put anyone on this earth without a talent. I am thinking Dillard tried to live the quote of “when I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, I used everything you gave me.”
In all my years of knowing Dillard, I cannot recall one time when I heard him say anything ill about another person. He truly lived out “Love God, Love People.” 

After his years of heavy equipment and mine work, he returned to what he really loved to do: farm—the farm where he grew up, the farm he never left…where he was clearly at peace when he was out with the cattle, mending a fence or mowing a field.
Even in his 80’s, Dillard was hard to keep pace with. Retirement was not a word that I ever heard Dillard use one time. During his weekly calls with Linda, he would almost always ask if I was still working. Work was important to him, and I think his work was his like his daily vitamin. He believed work gave you purpose and kept you moving…and based on his health until recently, he might be right.

He was smart about his farm work. When it came to getting in the hay, he knew just how to get the manpower he needed. When his daughters were young and living at home, he would have Vickie and Linda help with bringing in the bales of hay. Some might think Dillard did this in order to teach his children the value of hard work and I am sure part of that is correct. I, on the other hand, think maybe Dillard knew how to get young men to work by having two beautiful ladies in the fields working.

The second question he would ask Linda on those Sunday calls with Linda is: “Did you go to meeting today?” Dillard’s faith was very important to him. (It was announced yesterday that Dillard had been a member of Stearns First Baptist Church for 81 years. He was a Sunday school teacher, deacon and sang in the choir). 

Dillard came into my life a bit over 40 years ago when I meet Linda. Unknown to either of us, I sort of met Dillard in my early teens. One of my jobs at the grocery store was sweeping the porch each night. Some nights I would procrastinate and neglect sweeping until early the next morning. I recall many times when a man in a truck would drive by the store around daybreak, he would always blow his horn and wave. Little did I know at the time that man in the truck would become my father-in-law. I often hear people talk about difficult relationships with their in-laws. I suppose I was truly blessed when Wilma and Dillard welcomed me into their family. They took me in just like I was their own.

If you spent much time with Dillard, you know he had stories and lots of them. I have many stories on my phone that I’ve recorded over the past 3 years. Monday morning, I took a listen to them, one was 50 minutes long. They were mostly stories from his early years, times he spent driving a truck or working on the farm. If you prompted him with a question, the stories would roll. It’s funny how the mind works: The past few years, Dillard could not remember 5 minutes ago…but when I asked him about past memories, his mind ran nonstop, and his voice would light up the recorder on my phone.

I will always remember asking Dillard if I could marry Linda. He said, “so you want to marry my rascal?” I said, “Yes sir,” and he countered with, “Well I reckon that will be just fine.” I will certainly miss my visits with Dillard. Funny, but I know his cattle will miss him too; I was always amazed to see the cattle come to him out in the field when he got out of his truck—they knew him.

Dan, Vickie and Linda, thank you for sharing your dad with the rest of us. He clearly touched a lot of lives in his lifetime. Shirley, thank you for being a wonderful mate to him for the past 14 years, you were truly sent from God to be with Dillard. 

Jesus thank you for knowing him and welcoming him home. I am certain that if there is a field in heaven that needs tending, Dillard will be on it.