Eulogy for George Douglas Wood Jr.
George
Douglas Wood Jr. Began his earthly journey on August 1st 1919 in Ogden, Utah.
To Lena Marie and George Douglas Wood Sr. he
was 5th in a step family and 1st in the
new family, they moved to Crystal in Arbon
Valley shortly after his birth then circumstances led
the family to the base of Red Hill just West
of the Spud Bowl of Idaho State College, Southern
Branch, in Pocatello. It was here that he was
to spend his formative years. Dad had the run of
the foothills around Pocatello and beyond. He has
recounted to me about being over to his
Aunt Nell’s
place on Ross Fork and she walked him to the top of the hill and said, ”now see
down there? That is where your home is, now
scoot on home.” At an early age dad was
hunting
rabbits or whatever he could to bring home for
food. As children we kids never knew what the
conditions were that dad grew up in, until one
Christmas we decided it would be interesting to
recount our best Christmas remembrances as
kids. We started with dad. His response
startled
us all. It
was not the “Oh hell” start, rather it was
“we never had Christmas, what we had was
some donation of clothing and food from the
Lions” As children dad shielded us from much of
what he endured. We heard the stories of
hunting and putting meat on the table but likened it
to our own experiences of extras.
Dad was swift to accept responsibilities. Grandma’s
and Grandpa’s home that I became
familiar with, on 3rd and Sublet is the one dad
purchased. The expansion of Idaho State College
necessitated that move for Grandma and Grandpa.
It was here I caught a glimmer of Dad’s
early life.
A snack at Grandma’s was bread with butter or jam, not butter, peanut butter
and
jam. Most of
the things Grandma and Grandpa had were provided by dad.
When things were needed he
just did it, without fanfare.
An
early tidbit from dad was that he had his pilot’s license before he had a
drivers license. He
would walk to the air field, which at that
time was above Campus in the 15th street area. It was
there he worked for lessons.
During his early years he and his friends were
almost inseperable.
Dad, Grant Williams, Bud Sereal and Wayne
Boschweiler did most everything together. They
build a
rough cabin on the back side of Chinks Peak. And of course they traveled all
over the
area. Ross Park had a swimming pool and then
with a car they would drive to Lava
Hot Springs.
It was there that Dad met mom at her senior sneak day from Ucon High School
probably in May
1940. Dad was going to school at Idaho State College (southern branch)
when he met
mom. Dad talked her into spending the night with Leola in Pocatello to attend a
dance at the
3rd Ward that night with him.
They became a couple and discussed their future.
Dad wanted
to enlist in the military, Army Air Corp or Navy and the Navy won out, despite
the
problem of having to wait two years for
marriage. Mother thought of going on a
mission
during that time. As happens that plan was
interfered with by a war. Now they only had to wait
until Dad got his wings. As a young Ensign George
and Viola started their togetherness at the
family homestead on the East River Road. They
were married there, in Coltman,
September 22nd
1942. Dad returned to Texas with mother. Then there were a
number of moves across the country as dad pursued
his career. Steve was born in Corpus
Christi,
Texas. Then it was home for mom as dad went off to war. While Mom was home in
Coltman, I
was born in Rigby. Then after the war we lived out on the Airbase, now the Pocatello
Airport.
Then there was a move to Alabama, where I learned to walk, greatly aided by
Grandpa
Wood. Dad started learning to fly a helicopter
for the Korean Conflict in Pensacola,Fl. While
mom and us kids stayed in California. Sometime
during his helicopter flying time he flew
Humphrey Bogart from the carrier to shore. Then while flying
some of the assistants off the
carrier he crashed into a garbage truck on the
pier. The next accident was while on training in
Washington
state. A malfunction sent him into the drink.
All in all
dad did not discuss the exploits of the war and time of distress. He had the
few benign
stories that
he repeated, but slowly over the years he would open up about his friends lost.
Dad
graduated from Idaho State College (Southern Branch) with a degree in Education
with a
minor in
Biological Science. For all who have listened to him talk about trees his
ability to recall
the common
name as well as the Latin name have continued to amaze and impress me.
What a remarkable memory dad had.
It was
during this time dad purchased the house in Inkom and started to build the main
floor on
a basement
house. As always with time people go their separate ways. However dad and Grant
remained
close. They went fishing and hunting and played until that fateful trip down
the
Middle Fork of the Salmon. A part of dad was
lost on that trip, that affected his core being.
Mother would
recall how dad told of tying a rope to him and diving in search of Grant. He
came
home and bawled like a baby. In these last few
years it was not uncommon to have dad say,
“I would like to go find Grant’s
grave.” We would drive him over to the cemetery and
search out
Grant’s grave marker. Dad had many friends that were to come and go over the
years, but
none had the impact of Grant.
We moved to Inkom. Dad would frequently go on
training and his return was accompanied by
him “buzzing” the house in Inkom followed by a
frantic effort to get all of us kids in the car and
out to the airport to pick him up. We would
get there just in time for dad to have completed
his post flight checks then walk out and we
would go home.
We
were back in Texas for a short while. We lived in the Dallas Fort Worth area. Then
we
moved to California I do not recall if we went
home to Inkom first or not. The first place we
lived was on“H” Street in Chula Vista, Then we
moved up to Quintard St. It was here that I
recall dad
hovering in his helicopter trying to get Steve or I to relay a message to
mother.
We were
always alert to the sound of helo blades. It was during this time dad told the
rhyme
Twinkle
Twinkle Little Star
“Twinkle, Twinkle little star,
how I wonder what you are,
up above the
world so high,
like a Helicopter in the sky.”
As dad
returned from each deployment it meant trinkets for us kids. Bamboo fishing
poles,
silk
jackets, battery powered boats, all flashy
things from overseas.
Then it was back to Inkom. Dad first taught
school. When he stuck up for a fellow teacher,
who with proper provoking struck a student, they
fell afoul of the District rules. Dad was
convinced the student was wrong and the
teacher was right, so he aliened himself on the side
of the right. They were informed that they
would not be needed the next year, so he left and
started his next career, that of selling
insurance. This was a cloud with a silver
lining, dad was
guaranteed
more to start selling than he was making after 5 years teaching. It was here
that he
coined his phrase “don’t wonder, just ask.”
With teaching he left a very lasting
impression on many who would later comment
“George taught me how to drive."
He was not teaching school
when I turned 14 but
“George taught me
how to drive.”
Dad had a very strong sense of what was
right and what was wrong. I recall at home up Mink
CR. Dad had borrowed a uniform to attend some
official function. On the front of the jacket
were a slew
of ribbons and I recall him pointing to one in the middle and asking mom to
remove it for him. When she asked why, his
response was “I have not earned that award”. To
which she replied but nobody will know, and he
came right back with “ I will know”.
Dad did not belabor time on life’s
inequalities. When his citation for the Distinguished Flying
Cross was torn up in front of him, he never
let that get him down nor did he let that change his
attitude he continued to do what was right.
His joy was very evident though when Sheri was
able to effect him being awarded that
recognition 40 years late.
In 1959 we moved up Mink Creek Rd. For
many years we enjoyed the time “Up the creek”.
One of the things that seems common among
us kids is the drives with dad. We spent a lot
of
time in a car sightseeing or traveling from one home to another. From the coast
and the
Redwoods to the back country roads around Idaho
or across the United States. The one
exception
to his driving to every state was after
his stroke. Don and I were able to accompany
him
and mother on the visit to the last State he had yet to visit. We took a cruise
ship to
ALASKA.
It did not take long for him to work the tables, and soon a common salutation
to be
heard through the halls and tables was “Hi,
George”! Dad left a lasting impression
everywhere
he
went. He was a talker and he talked to everyone he met. Werner’s comment was if
anyone is
down in the dumps they needed to stop in and
see George and he would help.
There were times we were censored by dad.
Teresa recalls having her heart broken but does
not recall over what. We were disciplined and
then it was over. My remembrance was when
Steve and I broke the window on the back
screen door while scuffling. Dad asked me if I
wanted
a single swat on the back porch where all of my friends could see or did I want
two
inside
where it was just him and I? I chose one. Later as I went to go into the
bathroom I came
upon dad washing the tears out of his eyes and
I asked mother why was dad crying?
Her response startled me.
“It hurts your dad just
as much as it does you, when he has to spank you.”
All of us children in one way or another
were involved with his work. As children Steve and I
would
place pamphlets on the windshields of cars in the parking lot by the office
downtown.
Later when the office was moved to Center
Street I would follow Steve’s footsteps and get
licensed
and sell insurance with dad. Dad had a strong desire to have one of us follow
in his
footsteps
and take over the business. It was one of the disappointments he felt from us. Dad
wanted
us to be accountable. I remember asking to borrow some money to buy my food for
the
summer when I first worked on a Forest Service
Lookout. He said to meet him after school at
the
office on Center. I showed up at the appropriate time and he put on his hat and
said come
with
me. We walked up the street to the Idaho Bank and Trust on the corner of 4th
and Center
he
took me in and introduced me to a banker and said
“this is my son Alan, he
wants to borrow some
money”.
Then he turned to me as he left and said
“when you’re done here come on
back to the office”.
Dad
and Werner Erickson became partners for their career. Ed Davis and family
became our
Deer
and Pheasant hunting party, Frank Argenbright became his Sage Hen, Grouse and
Chucker
hunting partner, fishing was with us boys,
Reunions were all of the family, as well as
Thanksgiving, and Christmas visits to Grandma
and Grandpa Stucki.
This sketch also has to contain the word
visionary. Dad would look at things and places and
think I can do something with that. As a result he became a collector. Then he
built or had
built things he envisioned. Tom and Huck could
not hold a candle to dad for getting someone
else involved in his projects. Many unique
things were first just a glimmer in dad’s mind, the
rest were scattered throughout the house and the
studio.
Besides a strong family bond Dad evoked a
strong bond for our country.
He
encouraged us to serve, and of course it was the Navy. Steve and I joined
together just after
my
17th birthday. It took dad’s signature for me to join early. I later
left the Unit in Pocatello,
to make room for Syd. But that is another
whole series of stories. Many times we received
council
both good and harsh from Dad. “Ask him
again; Write your mother, take your hat off in
the house” and yet he would also praise when
he saw you doing something he admired.
These last few years were especially tough
on him. He wanted to walk, drive and most of all
see and visit with people, however the stroke
robbed him of much of his ability and
confidence. As he made the best of the nursing
homes that he was incarcerated in
(at
least from his point of view) he left a slew of new friends,
people touched by the
infectious enjoyment of life by
“GD”.
It was a very difficult time to know
someone or something and not be able to articulate what
he
wanted. As his abilities became restricted so went his desire to remain here. Now
that he
has moved on we are left with a very large void
to fill.
I would like to share with all of you here
that
I love my father and mother with all of my heart
and the opportunity to care for our parents
has been passed on with a very great example to follow.
Now during our still quiet moments when we
draw close to the spirit
we will hear that familiar
refrain
“ Hi George”
and know that dad is home
and all is well, all is well.