December 29, 2022, marks the 100th anniversary of my father’s birth. He said he always got one leftover Christmas present for his birthday when he was a kid. He felt sympathetic to those whose birthdays fell close to Christmas and New Year’s Day. As the youngest of five children, he was used to hand-me-downs and leftovers.
My father was a railroad man. After trying his hand as a machinist and a jeweler, he went to work for the Seaboard Railroad in 1949. He worked in different capacities for the company for 33 years. My father struggled with high school but managed to graduate just before World War II began. He served in the Coast Guard, married my mother, and after the war, they started having children. Three of us were born within 4 years, and we all went to church each week. Faith mattered.
My dad started out as a switchman in the rail yards accompanying freight trains around the city. Because of union rules, seniority made all the difference in the world when it came to work schedules. Dad worked the nightshift for many years. Things got better. After a dozen years or so, my father began to think of ways to improve the efficiency of the freight delivery system. On his own, he drew-up maps of all the small spur lines that the freight trains used to deliver to the warehouses throughout Miami, Florida, and the surrounding towns. Doing this helped the engineers to have the box cars in the right order to be dropped off, as well as knowing where to find some places. He also took a Dale Carnegie course to learn how to speak in public and work more effectively with people. Management was impressed—he was soon promoted to Assistant Yardmaster, then Yardmaster overseeing the freight crews.
In 1965, our family life changed completely. Dad was asked to move to Birmingham, Alabama, to become a Customer Service Representative for the railroad and Mom announced that she was expecting a baby. Even with all the life changes, the whole family continued to go to Sunday School and church.
Eventually Dad was promoted to General Yardmaster of Atlanta, later as Assistant Terminal Trainmaster for Georgia, and finally Terminal Trainmaster over a three-state area centered in South Carolina. Through it all he taught us the place of faith and the importance of church. Everywhere my parents lived, they were active members in a church. When my father learned he had just a few days to live, he took the day to make phone calls to friends and family to tell them how much they meant to him. He died in mid-December 2003, just shy of his 81st birthday.
Keep healthy. Pray mightily. Enjoy your life today. Faith matters. And let’s experience the love and power of God together.
Bro Darryl
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