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The Journal of Quentin S Clingerman

Journal Entry
09/03/2002 12:44 a.m.
My Dad

If he were living today, Stanley Grant Clingerman would be 104 as of Sept. 26. Born in south central Pennsylvania, he died on June 7, 1991 in Younstown, Ohio.

Dad was born to a farming family. His father farmed and worked for a saw mill. It was a hard life. Dad began his work career very young on the farm. A tree fell on him when he was a teenager seriously injuring him. His education went through one year of Normal School at Juniata College in Juniata, Pennsylvania.
He taught in a rural school in Six Mile Run for a year. After he married he went to Ohio to hopefully earn a better living.

He was reared in a very socially, religiously, politically conservative area. He was by temperament more suited for the 18th Century, I think! An idealist, romanticist, dreamer (not visionary), and especially individualist, he simply wanted to have his family around him and let the rest of the world go by! Dad did not value “things”. He was not materialistic. Decorating the house, having a nice lawn and flowers were up to Mom and Us Kids. I don’t think we would have celebrated Christmas if he had been responsible for it (However, after Mom died in 1987 he did send the Christmas cards and other occasion cards which she had always done before.) As long as the house was relatively clean and there was food on the table he was content.

He loved reading and traveling. We could be as noisy as we wanted to be. If he were reading he didn’t hear us! Mom used to say that someone could come in and carry the house off and he wouldn’t notice if he were reading. While travel was limited while we were growing up, he and Mom traveled quite a bit when all but the youngest had left home. My brother, David, who then worked for the airlines, helped them with expenses to fly to Hawaii. And Dad went with David to Cuba and Haiti at one time. Mom and Dad spent a number of winters in Arizona (where one of his brothers lived and my oldest brother lived for a time.)

We always lived on a farm of sorts while I grew up. When I was in the seventh grade we moved to the property where my youngest brother now lives. We moved into a house that had been built a century earlier. Finally Dad built a new one in front of it. But mom had to use a wood stove to cook on and another potbellied stove in the living room “heated” the rest of the house in the winter. That meant the upstairs rooms were always COLD. I was a junior in high school when he built the new house. Mom got her gas stove and an electric refrigerator! But no indoor plumbing until I was nearly through college. But I digress.

Dad and Mom had ten children. Seven of us grew into adulthood. But sex was a forbidden subject when we were young! I always said they didn’t believe in talking about it… . J I decided as a teenager that whatever my kids wanted to talk about we’d talk about!

When I was very young Dad was a good friend in a way. He took me with him to work occasionally when he drove a retail bread route. Later he took me occasionally on the truck when he hauled vegetables from the Cleveland area to Cincinnati to wholesale markets there.

But in my teens I was a little afraid of him. Though he never physically punished us he had a fierce temper!
However, I do remember in our frequent supper table discussions arguing with him in my late teens. As an adult our relationship grew somewhat closer. He worked so hard all of his life to provide shelter, food, and raiment, that he had little time for anything else. He was not interested in sports and games. He did encourage us to do our best academically and always talked of our going to college.

He always supported mom in her faith but did not become much of a man of faith until his early fifties. Thus, there was some tension in the home over religion. While he had the Victorian mindset toward moral and ethical values and was very strict about Sundays and dating ( I was not permitted to date until I was 18. Because we lived in a rural area he was able to enforce it.)

My dad grew up in difficult days. It was a struggle to survive. Then as a young married man he faced the Great Depression with his family. I was born in the early years of that Depression (1932). Then there came the war with his two oldest sons off to fight . Then there were young sons and daughters to help with college. His values being what they were and the size of the family, Mom never worked outside of the home. He was 46 when his last child, a son, was born.

Looking back, I know that Dad loved us. His expression of love was limited by his Victorian upbringing. Although he always was demonstrative in his affections toward mom he was not so much toward us until we were well into our adult years.

He worked hard physically until he was in his mid sixties. He still kept busy through his retirement years. He was on the tractor in the garden a few weeks before he died. He remained independent minded and hated to be dependent on others. It was very difficult for him when he could no longer drive. At the time of his death he could hardly see or hear. But he kept his sense of humor to the very end.

I am currently Nastolgic
I am listening to Air filter noises

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