It had been a long day working on the farm and milking cows. When I got to the house everyone was looking for my second son, John. My oldest was out on his Z50 looking for him. We first looked to see if he was asleep in his bed but "nope" he was not there. I began to go to the barns looking for him. The tobacco barn was empty, the small stock barn was empty. John was in neither of those barns. I looked in the concrete block grain barn but no John. I walked up to the big concrete block cattle barn with the drive in hayloft and the rounded roof. The front door was made of cypress and moved pretty easily. I walked into the barn and sure enough there was John standing in the concrete feed bunk made for feeding corn silage.
John was standing there motionless but crying out to me. John had been "treed" by a pair of our domestic geese. He had been there for several hours unable to escape. They were in no mood to play. They were mad over something and were in no way going to let John come home. They had him cornered and he was afraid of them.
I got the geese to leave and I got John and we made our way back to the house. It was time for supper.
John had a way of getting off and not coming back. I came in for dinner, "lunch" for city folk, and John was not there. After we got to looking we found him at the far end of the 40 acre pasture sitting on our horse. It seems she had wandered off to the other end of the field and refused to come home. John was stranded.
These stories are funny to us now. I am sure they did not feel all that good to John at the time. Nevertheless, we have told them over and over and to many of our friends and family, each time with lots of laughs.
I caught that pair of geese by the neck and gave them both to John and told him to pull them down the road for a bit. The geese never bothered him again. The horse was very gentle and easy to control and John mastered riding her too.
When John was very small I was working on our dump truck and putting some bolts on it. I gave John one of the nuts and he instinctively put it right on the bolt turning it the proper way. I was impressed that he just could take the nut and put it right on. He was no more than four or five at the time.
These are some of the memories I have of my son. You see on a warm day in October last year he left us before we any of us had time to tell him goodbye. I was in Bardstown, KY that day and was just starting home when I got a call that the ambulance was transporting him to the hospital, his condition "unknown." Before I could get to Shelbyville it became known to me that John had left us behind and made his way into another place.
The days following were hard. But this is not about me. This is about my son John. This blog is a tribute to him. It turns out that John had been injured at birth and none of us knew it until recently. That seems to have affected many decisions he made in life.
Another time when John was about six I was awakened during the dead of night. John slept in an upstairs room just beside a dusk to dawn light outside our house. We slept in a room nearby. As I awakened the room we were in kept being lit up and darkened. I was dead asleep but this light woke me up. Being pretty drowsy, I began to recognize that there was a light coming into our room and then it would go off. It would stop for awhile and it woke me again. What was this light? The next time I managed to get out of bed to investigate the source.
John was wide awake and he was swinging his bedroom door open and closed. As it opened our room was flooded with light. As it closed our room was darkened. What was a six year old doing wide awake at 3 a.m.? Yep, that is my son John, wide awake and going strong.
A year or so later we were housing tobacco and some friends were there helping. They were neighbors who lived a few miles away and kind of new to my boys so they filled them in on all the latest news from our house. John of course had a way of telling stories.
It seems as though the subject of "bedtime" came up. I would send the boys to bed and that meant they were supposed to be going to sleep. Pretty often the boys would be up and laughing quite loudly an hour later. Then came dad to the base of the steps to send up admonitions to settle down and go to sleep. When this did not work I would try to employ a more stern discpline method, namely spanking.
Our neighbor began to tell me John's version of these episodes. John told him that they would go upstairs and they would get in the same room and play and laugh. They knew when they had gotten too loud because it would bring me to the base of the stairs and that I would tell them to settle down and go to sleep. Sometimes, this would go on for a bit and then they knew they were in trouble when I started up the steps.
Next came a spanking with the "razor strap," a double layered 3" wide leather strap for sharpening straigh razors. John told the neighbor that when they got spanked that they would yell and scream like I was killing them and that would get me to stop really quickly. All would be well for the night. Well I tell you our neighbor about fell out of the barn because he was laughing so hard.
Then both boys got older and they colluded to conspire against me. Sometimes my wife was out of the house and the boys were inside. They began telling their mom that strange women were calling the house asking for me. This started to cause me trouble. I guess they were getting even for the razor strap. This went on for some time before it stopped. I was glad that it stopped after I had a discussion with them. Well, paybacks are heck. My oldest son got on the receiving end of a similar scheme.
There are more memories of my son John. We used to tell him a little rhyme that went like this.
Deedle, Deedle, Dumpling
Deedle, deedle, dumpling, my son John
Went to bed with his stockings on,
One shoe off, one shoe on.
Deedle, deedle, dumpling my son John.
John was named for his two grand dads. My dad's name was Frank Collier Rogers and his mother's dad was John Thomas Nation. That is how John got his name: John Collier Rogers.
I went to my son's grave the other day
And I realized that all that was there was the body he once had
I was really uneasy when he left so soon, but, then God reminded me then and today
That John had placed his trust in Jesus as a young lad
He reminded me from Isaiah that John was taught from Him
He reminded me from the book of John that no one could take
Him out of God's hands
I was reminded from Romans that nothing can separate us from the love of God
I was remined that once we have Jesus we have life eternally.
The tattoo on John's arm reflected his roots, it was a cross.
I have lots of memories of My Son John
Like many a parent I spent time on my knees for him
I choose to keep most of my memories for me and mine.
So when I go to visit his grave I do not mention the mistakes he made.
My God forgives us all our sins when we come to the cross
I will see my son again, I have the comfort that only God can give
For the choir director: A psalm of David. In times of trouble, may the LORD answer your cry. May the name of the God of Jacob keep you safe from all harm. May He send you help from His sanctuary and strengthen you from Jerusalem. May He remember all your gifts and look favorably on your burnt offerings. Interlude May He grant your heart's desires and make all your plans succeed. May we shout for joy when we hear of your victory and raise a victory banner in the name of our God. May the LORD answer all your prayers.
(Psa 20:1-5)
Bob Rogers
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