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'Vyron Northup - a Tribute to My Dad'
My father was an average man
But only in his size.
He also was a handsome man
With piercing, sky-blue eyes.
He had a lot of promise
And important hopes and dreams.
He fulfilled a few of those
And made a dent, it seems.
While he and Mom raised children
And were building up a farm,
He thought about society
And whether it could harm
The lovely, lively unit
His family had become.
Or the place he raised them, far away
From cities noisy hum.
The country was involved in
The Second World War.
They told him to stay home and farm
So prices wouldn't soar.
But Dad fretted (and got some grey)
As others fought for them.
And Mama cooked and cleaned and prayed
They wouldn't take her man.
Meantime, he taught us how to build
With lumber that we grew.
Fell it, shape it, dry it -
Put up a building new.
And fences to keep cattle in
That we would milk each day.
Raise some pigs and chickens
And the Winter's crop of hay.
Or build with plants that give us food
And seed for in the ground.
Then till and plant and harvest
As the seasons come around.
What a legacy we had
Most children would be proud.
But our Dad gave us even more
He'd stand out in a crowd.
He did a lot of thinking
On how we would survive.
If something happened to the Dad
Would we all stay alive?
There was a company that sold
Insurance to the farmer.
But with no money how could he
Help us put on this armor?
So, he set out to work for them
To sell to other guys.
And thus insured the home place
At the price of family ties.
He moved in other circles now
And observed their power.
I remember Hubert Humphrey,
And Orville Freeman too.
Governor Wendell Anderson was
Someone that we knew.
Dad rubbed elbows with some greats
If politics is your thing.
'Just elect the right guy
And he'll make freedom ring.'
Meantime the family struggled
With the father out of sight.
No lessons from an adult's view
Left younger ones in plight.
How do you build a fence alone?
Or nurse a sickly cow?
Can we form up some concrete?
Or get hay into the mow?
When is the time to learn to dance?
Or read before our bed?
Now the Mama lays awake -
Without the family head.
But, Dad was doing weighty things
For people far and wide.
He saw corruption in our land
And tried to stem the tide.
He served committees large and small
And helped to draft some rules.
He built liaisons between groups,
Got money for some schools.
Made friends with people high and low
And traveled many places.
He tried to help to better things
For people of all races.
And many trusted in his word
Because he had a plan.
But through it all, he ne'r forgot
That he was just a man.
The history books may not record
His name with other greats.
But we all benefit because
We can preserve his traits.
Hardworking, stubborn, visioning -
A giant in my eyes.
My father was an average man,
But only in his size.
by Connie Northup
Vyron Northup; In Memorium, Next Bereavement; by Donna Northup
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