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.
I had this link sent to
me and thought this was a good place for
it