Arthur O Liberty Jr: Hero Shit 179

Let me tell you something Everybody struggles. The difference is some people choose to go through it and some choose to grow through it. The choice is completely yours. Which one you choose will have a very profound effect on the way you live your life. If you find strength in the struggle and this podcast is for you you have a relationship that is comfortable with uncomfortable conversations. Uncomfortable conversations challenge you, humble you and they build you. When you sprinkle a little time and distance on it, it all makes sense. Most disagreements, they stem from our own insecurities. You are right where you need to be, right where you need to be.

Ooh, ooh, ooh, what'd it do. What'd it do?

I'm glad you joined in there, because I'm so tired I forgot what my line was.

I got you, I'm a day one.

Well played, well played, well played young lady. Ooh, ooh, ooh. What'd it do? What'd it do? Episode 179. And hold onto your pants and grab your tish ooze, because we have an emotional one on tap today. You might have noticed we're starting the show a little bit different today. Thankfully and fortunately, I am joined by my lovely, beautiful wife today, that's me.

Yes, that is you.

We are doing this show a little bit different today because on Saturday, december 9th, we paid our last respects and laid my father to rest. We had our service at Cody's funeral home in Soco, which I want to say. Thank you to everybody at Cody's Stacey, brian, lori, dave, everybody over there is so, so great to us and I will say that venue looked fantastic. Yeah, we did a great job. All the little touches. I think that fact that if you guys go to like a funeral service or something you're probably accustomed to seeing a lot of like poster boards and things like that. Well, for us, we actually went about it a little different and we took a bunch of old windowpains and Made collages out of them.

Yeah, yeah, it was a nice little touch the wooden features, just the wooden, the wooden, the wooden, the wooden features. Just screamed him like the poster board is not a thing for him, yeah now, I don't think that cardboard is his thing, maybe duct tape. Burning it. Yeah, he burned a lot of cardboard. He probably want to burn the duct tape and the cardboard, but there was a lot of nice touches.

I think that made things just specific to my dad. We had slideshows on every TV, which was really nice as well. We prepared a special slide show with some special songs and things and maybe we'll get into some of that stuff at a later episode. But behind my dad's urn which first off, you and my mom picked the urn and I think it's pretty damn fitting, I agree. You got a concussion over it, but I did take two inches of my scalp off trying to get downstairs, but Well it is wrapped in an American flag and I couldn't have picked a better urn.

He definitely did it himself, not us.

He placed it strategically right in front of us, at the bottom of the stairs, I think that's a pretty pretty patriotic dad that I have and a pretty patriotic statement there, so hence the last name, liberty, and the business that we own and run. I think it makes a lot of sense. Yeah, I was able to take one of my dad's creations and kind of make a little something for it and have a nice centerpiece made. So we had all these little things that were nice touches. If you've seen the photo that we have of my dad with our horse out on the front lawn, we turned that into a it's like a 24 by 36 canvas. That looked really nice. So I just feel like everything about it was was right.

Yeah, the canvas was set like perfectly behind the urn. So when you were staring upfront when everyone was giving their speeches, you had the opportunity to just look at the picture. And one thing that I gathered from everyone staring at that picture is just wow, like he was at peace in that photo, and that was over the summer. You and I both were trying to figure out, like, did you take that picture or I did I? Because we ended up taking the same exact photo and same exact video because he was just so at peace, the sky was perfect, the wind was blowing, spirits main, and it was just so perfect.

One of the things that obviously you can't really capture in a podcast. You know you have to be there to see it and experience it, but that photo we've kind of had it everywhere and everyone's gotten accustomed to that photo and and that, like you said, everybody says the same thing that he's at peace. And at the end of the ceremony, with a slideshow that we prepared with music I thought it was really fitting at the end, went into Vince Kill, go, rest high and it ends up turning into that photo and everybody's looking at that photo and they've been staring at that photo but nobody knew we had video that goes with that photo and when that video started and all of a sudden you see spirits, main and the wind, and you can actually hear the birds in the background, and it's so powerful. And that video, when we, when we got them, I couldn't watch it because I, like it already brought you to that point, right, all right, like fast, forwarded you to 5, 10, 15 years later in your mind, saying that someday, some way, like my dad, passes, this is, this is what I'm going to see, this is what I'm always going to remember. You know, that was so powerful, that video, which I think we might have another episode someday, that maybe we talk about all the things that went into this service and the ceremony and all the things like 3.30 in the morning, the night before the service, trying to finish things and the button things up. So much went into this, so much went into it, but I'm so proud of the way that it all played out.

Yeah.

I think that I really couldn't have done much different or much better.

We definitely paid our respects to him and did right by him by all the little touches that we did and you know, I think even everybody at Cody's they did an amazing job and everyone, from start to finish, was just phenomenal to deal with and it just made you feel like you did right by him the entire time.

I think we did so right and the touches were so right that actually we ended up giving some of our displays to Cody's funeral home, because they really enjoyed him that much yeah.

They gave us our pictures back yeah. But they kept the windows.

And then Stacy himself, one of the owners, at the end of everything mentioned that you know he's been doing this for quite some time His family's been in business for 100 years and he said it was one of the best services that he's ever been at, and he was crying in the closet because they had him as a sound guy for me.

Yeah, he kept ducking in the closet.

Yeah.

And a couple of times he'd catch him wiping his eyes and he even said he was like here I am under the damn lights, like trying not to cause a scene.

When your funeral director's crying at the service, I think you're doing something right. And he kept popping in so you guys will hear that I feel like. Towards the end of my speech I started rushing things along because I was worried I was going too long and he was just enjoying it.

And I mean when we were leaving he said on multiple occasions you know he will help them start the service, get the sound right, and then usually he just leaves. He has stuff to do in his office and stuff. That man didn't leave the entire time Like you, just there was a couple of times you just couldn't see him because he was hiding in the closet trying to keep his composure. But the nice thing about you know, cody's funeral home was chosen because you guys have worked with Cody's on a number of occasions, unfortunately, but every single time they always treat us like family and they take care of us and so just to be able to kind of put that into perspective, like that funeral parlor, like they take care of you and they're genuine people. Like you walk into most funeral homes and, like you've said before, it's just one big open concept. But Cody's is different. It's like a home, like you feel, very homey, you feel comfortable.

Yeah, you really do. It's authentic. You definitely feel comfortable. And if you guys are day one listeners and you've gone back and you've listened to, like, my grandfather's service and my grandmother's. It was at Cody's and during my grandfather's service, when it was all said and done, stacy came to me and was like come here, and he's like I feel like I need to give you something, like I need to say thank you, and he went downstairs and I ended up taking this coin that goes with a casket, basically, and when we were getting anything set for my dad's service, stacy's was somebody else. So we were working with Dave and I had mentioned to him about this coin and when we turned in the corner there was that whole book of coins and there was one missing.

There was one missing. Stacy said the obstacle one you got.

That's gotta be it. When we went there on Friday morning to drop things off as we were going to get set up for the celebration of life, he had two things set out. A big eagle magnet with an American flag and a coin that goes on a casket. And a note that said tell Keith to take one of these. So just goes to show how awesome and special that they are.

It was cool to be able to go there during the setting process, setting up process and just hearing the stories of Cody. Cody sees a lot of families and a lot of people and stuff. So for him to be able to kind of reminisce and tell stories about your grandpa and Joey and those sort of things. It's really nice you know that you're not just another toe-dag.

The other thing, too, is like Stacy's wife, lori, loved my dad because my dad and her dad were great friends. Her dad lives on our road and he passed a few years ago and we went to that service as well, but my dad used to go for a walk and sit on Jerry's porch and just shoot the shit. So there's just some history there. After getting ready for the actual service, we ended up going over to the local Eagles Lodge, and again I'm going to share some of these stories that I'll later date, but I just want to highlight a few things. One of the big surprises we had on the day was hiring Travis James Humphries, who played our wedding, and I just think Travis is one of the most talented musicians I've ever heard, regardless of where you're from. And I had this emotional interaction with Travis twice, on Saturday night, where I said the two biggest occasions in my life you've performed for Like one of the two, the biggest ingredients of the two most important days of my life marrying my wife and saying goodbye to my dad. Travis played at both of those.

I guess the only other time that we have to ask him to play another big day would be us having a child. You think you can get him to go to the hospital.

I can probably talk him into it. As long as he's open, you don't have to schedule it.

Well, I guess we're going to have to work on planning yeah.

Before we go further, I wanted to make sure that you were here, that we could both be here and truly say thank you to Absolutely From the bottom of our heart. It's man. Don't cry, I can't cry.

It's tough man.

I mean just thinking about the support and the love that we felt and experienced.

Man.

It was a powerful weekend. It was a lot of day ones that made it out.

A lot of people came from near and far.

New York traveling six hours to stay one night, which then the party turned out being so good.

I think it was one and a half.

That they stayed another night, yeah, and we all became Eagles members Everybody joined the Eagles Club. How fitting that is.

I don't know what they were getting there. They didn't know what they were getting themselves into when we rolled in.

I just think the time we got to spend with those guys was amazing, absolutely.

Even your mom being able to spend time with them.

My mom getting to spend time with them and there was a bunch of other day ones and I was going to say that I wasn't going to say a bunch of names on here, but I'm going to say some of them and I'm going to apologize for those that I forget. I'm running on very little sleep still at this point in my life here, but having some of them interact with each other was crazy right, like Scott and Lindsay being there and seeing them hang out with New York, and then some of my childhood friends Everybody kind of co-mingling there, clary and Woodcock have heard stories about one another because we all grew up in a.

Rundle, but they finally got to meet Finally got to meet and they became like best friends.

We watched them talk for 20 minutes. It was unbelievable.

Kaelin came out, your niece.

I had my first ever drink in public with my niece.

There's just so many memories that were formed.

I got a text message from DCF Darren Clarke for a game when I was walking into the funeral home. I was walking in for the first time, Even though you know what it's going to look like. It was just tough. I got a message from Clarke and I've had many conversations with him about his mother, so I know he unfortunately has the experience and he had said this message about you know, saying that like Sonya and Mackenzie were sorry they couldn't be there, and I didn't read into it to the point to realize that it never said that Clarke wasn't going to be there. I turned around and saw him and just friends that I haven't seen in 10 years Jared, I've been friends with since kindergarten, right, Matt Tassaro, it's kindergarten.

Chessman.

Chessman, fricking kindergarten, his parents, his sister, katrina Nicola Blank. I know I'm going to forget a bunch of people because there were so many people, but I'm just as I'm just giving thanks. There's just this rush of like a realization of the people in your life that you just haven't seen, that put their lives on hold to be there, people that drive six hours, people that you know do all this stuff. It's humbling. It's that's family. I want to put that out there. Yeah, it's family, because Absolutely. And in a later episode we'll get into some family drama. It's a family that wasn't there, it wasn't allowed to be there and still tried to be there, or whatever that situation is. The point is is that blood doesn't make you family. It doesn't.

Nope.

I've been disowned by blood, but I've been just accepted and loved by, by strangers that became friends, that are now family, and I'm so, so thankful and so blessed.

Absolutely.

We had Derek and Shannon there. You know we just did their wedding ceremony right. And then, and they didn't realize, I, in a roundabout way, had them in our speech too, right?

Yeah.

I was blown away to turn around and see, see Matt Perkins there from Ledgway Farm. You guys have heard me talk about Matt a lot and we've had some really powerful and inspirational conversations leading up to this and seeing him be there and spending time with my family and there's, there's so much to be thankful for, there's so much to be blessed. Jeff Foran coming out with a little Brando I mean the list, the list goes on. Seeing, you know, rachel, steve Clancy, manda, manda's a day one, right, she's dropping freaking food off at our mailbox and then she's at the service. You know like. I don't know, man, there's just so many, so many people.

Travis Spencer, taking videos and sending it to his parents, who are stuck in Florida.

Yeah, I can. I can literally sit here for hours and give to everybody a very boring podcast episode, because you'd be like, okay, where does this? The fucking Grammys are going to stand up there and just thank people. But it's important for me to put some of those things out there and I wasn't going to come out here and name names. I know I'm going to forget somebody, but as I sit here just starting to cry again, I just started thinking about people as I'm talking, as I can see their faces and I can go back to those memories and I just want to say thank you. I want to say thank you to each and every one of you because, in your own special way, you made this day just so memorable for me and I never want to think about my dad's day. I went into this knowing I didn't want to have this feeling about my dad's day that I regret it right With my brother's passing, you know, so many years ago. I always think about his service day as a successful day, as a happy day, because I honored him that day and that's what I wanted for my dad. Whenever I think about December 9th, I want to smile that I did everything and my absolute power to honor him. You know, and as I was getting ready to give that speech, I just kept saying to myself that, you know, you've been so proud of me for so many years. For 41 years, my dad's been my biggest supporter. He's been so proud of me. And I just kept saying to him, having a conversation with him, and asking him this is my opportunity to show everybody, you know, why you've been so proud of me. Don't let me fuck this up. Don't let me fuck this up. Here's my opportunity to show everybody why you've always been so proud of me. So, with that said, things are going to be a little bit different, because we have the idea going into the ceremony that, based off of the fact that our podcast is called Share the Struggle and we've been sharing this entire journey with everybody, why not share the day with everybody? And with that said, I took my iPhone, put it up on the podium and recorded.

And I recorded on my Apple Watch, just in case.

Yeah.

Has a backup plan.

Thank you, fine People have Apple Not sponsored, but you can be, we could be, we could be. So we have some audio from the service. I'm going to go ahead and switch over to the actual recording on my iPhone from my dad's service. I'm going to do my absolute best to clean up the audio as much as I can. But for those of you that were there those day ones that were there thank you, and this is a copy of the speech for you to hear over again.

Sorry, you have to listen again. Yeah, kevin, I would get off the treadmill.

Yeah, seriously, yeah, your legs will burn up.

The speech is an hour.

Yeah, if you weren't there and you wanted to be there, or you know, you're listening to this recording 10 years from the day that I made it. I'm going to take you back to December 9th 2023, when we get to say goodbye to my hero. So I hope this goes well and thank you. Thank you. That's why we're here. Thank you everybody for being here today. The first thing I want to do is I want to thank Cody Soonalholm, stacy Laurie, brian, dave. They treat us like family and this is where we would want to be. I promise I won't be in the shake the whole time. If my old man had his way, I'd have to be packing a chew right now, but I'm pretty confident I wouldn't make a few of the whole speech if I did. Today's speech is going to be some stories about my old man, some messages, and it's going to be the way he would have said it. So if you're underage or you're sensitive, you've been around my dad so, which is maybe another one of the reasons why we decided to not go fully with the church today. The ironic thing and I kind of want to tell you how we have arrived at the setup that we have today is I met somebody from the church that I feel connected to, that I wanted to be here, but scheduling just continued and not line up, and I kept thinking about it and I prayed on it and I said that that's what I want. It's not what my old man wants. My old man wants me to stand up here and say his story and he wants his brother to be here to share his story and his knowledge. So that's how we've arrived at the layout that we have here and, as sad as it is in my voice that you hear, I'm blessed. I don't want everybody here to not feel sorry for us. It's okay to grieve, but I got 41 years of my old man Since the day I was born. He told me I'm sorry, but I won't see you graduate high school. He told me that shit ran out the gate. I started late and I'm not going to see you graduate. I'm probably not going to see you get married and he did all those things with me. But I want 40 years more, absolutely. But I'm absolutely blessed and I don't want to lose sight of that. It has long been said that a boy's first hero is his dad. My dad was larger than life, both in appearance and personality. As a boy in school gatherings, I quickly realized my dad was different. He was the toughest, the roughest, the loudest, the baddest and the best. He was also the scariest and the most intimidating and as a kid I loved every second of it. I was too young to understand if it was fear or respect, but I could feel his presence. My uncle just spoke of the dictionary and the dictionary would tell you the definition of a hero is a person who was admired or idolized for courage. I was standing in achievements of noble qualities. I have grown up and lived my entire life watching my dad do hero shit. I watched my dad climb trees and shake out a coon. I've seen my dad pull porcupines out of his back and quills out of his dog's mouth. We were both there for that. I watched my dad rescue his dog from a fight with a black bear. I've seen him carry skunks by their tail and pull a punk out of a car, grabbing burning logs out of a fire Hot steel with his bare hands, build, race cars from scratch, demolish a building in minutes and become a successful business owner. If you are here today, you probably had a personal conversation with my dad, and if that conversation was long enough, I'm rather confident. He told you he was proud of me, and I couldn't tell you how many times I've heard him tell my mother just how beautiful she is and how lucky he is. Together they built a home of their dreams and my dad lived every day of his life the way he chose If you're asking me, that's here to shit. My dad was an amazing provider. As long as I can remember, he's owned his own business. He worked harder than anybody I know. As a young child I felt like I never went without. My mom didn't go back to work until I was in high school and I think at that point she was just tired of being home with me and my dad. As hard as he worked, he came to sacrifice because I didn't get to spend as much time on him as I wanted. But he never missed out on any major event in my life Any basketball game, any football game. My dad is fiercely loyal to his friends, his family and to his loved ones. When I was a kid, my dad started this business called May Metal Cutters. It was with his best friend was his business partner. They made a very successful partnership, one that led to new trucks, new equipment, eventually a new house, a dream house for my mom that my dad bought and built that house brick by brick, board by board. I'm proud to say that we still own that house today, but there was a time when that didn't seem possible. My dad's business partner was turned into the IRS by his ex-wife for tax fraud. The IRS wanted my dad to testify against his friend. The IRS told him if you turn on your friend, if you tell us what he's done, it comes with immunity for you and your family. It will not come after you or your business, but if you do not place the blame solely on your partner, it will come after you and everything you own, with all of our power. I want you to know that my dad never turned on his friend and the IRS came after us with all their power. We lost a lot of things, but we kept that house. I learned a lot about hard times, but I always had more than enough. My dad instilled an example of grit and sacrifice. Those qualities helped shape my character. The loyalty doesn't come without suffering, because as we sacrificed and lost so many prized possessions, his best friend and business partner often moved to Canada. He left us to deal with all the consequences. My dad's grit and sacrifice protected me from a lot of future failures and disappointments as an adult, because it taught me to never give up on my dreams. That's hero shit. At the core of my dad's values. The center of his fundamental beliefs was protection, to protect his wife and son at all costs. I asked Wikipedia what qualifies someone as a hero, and it said a hero is someone who gives of himself, often putting his own life at great risk for the greater good of others. Let me explain to you a little example of my dad's level of protection. I'm going to give you one story of many just to highlight how far my dad would go to protect me. My dad and my uncles used to build race cars, mud trucks. You've seen them on videos here, and one person that I've always called an uncle is also Don Johnson, who we've lost. I spent my childhood at many of Mud Runs, gravel pits and sand drags. Some of my fondest memories are of camping at the Oscar Valley Fair for the annual sand drags with all my friends and family. One year, while getting ready for the big race, my dad purchased this big monster of a jeep. It was the first time that I can remember that he didn't build it from scratch. He bought it from somebody else. We were at Uncle Don's place on Route 5 in Waterboro. The mud rig was pulled into the garage. I was sitting on the tailgate of my dad's pickup truck, watching in intently as my dad and my uncle raced against the clock to get that new toy race ready. My dad had a Duncan Donuts coffee cup, half all a gasoline. He was going to pour a little into the carburetor. The jumps start at the jeep. My uncle was in the driver's seat. They had rigged up a push button ignition. Those have come a long way since then. My uncle yelled and my dad asked him if he was ready and my dad yelled not yet. Apparently my uncle heard hit it. So when he pushed the button to start the rig, it sparks and engulfed my dad in flames. I'm a young boy in the back of my dad's truck. I'm watching him being burned alive. There's 20-foot flames coming off of his head. He said flames so high we set the garage on fire. He's running around the garage bouncing off the truck and off the walls. My uncle tackles him to the ground and starts rolling around to put him out, my dad being the savage and hillbilly doctor that he is. He runs into the medicine cabinet, wraps a tube of Ben Gay and smears it all into his open burns, which later on, I would say, at the hospital, saved his skin. And when he died he probably had a patch about this big. That was all that was left. So he proceeds to tell my uncle get in the truck. We're going to drive to the hospital. My uncle says just call 911. My dad's response is fuck that, you can drive faster than them. The heroic thing about the story was that my uncle asked my dad what happened. He said when he hit the button I saw an arc. I saw a spark at a rift for the cup of gasoline. But what I didn't see was Buck. Those of you that don't know there's very few people in this world that call me Buck. That comes from my dad, after his dad, so my dad's always called me Buck. And he said I didn't know where Buck was. I was getting ready to throw that cup of gas, but I needed to stop and look and find Buck to protect him from getting burned. I turned around to find my son and that cup of coffee hit my hat and ducked the gas all down my arm and chest. My uncle asked him why didn't you go down to the ground and put yourself out? My dad said I didn't want Buck to see me burning. I was looking for a blanket to cover myself up and put myself out. We clung into my dad's 1989 bench seat single cab GMC Sierra. My uncle flipped on the floor, raised, put his foot to the floor. I'm sitting in the middle, my dad's in the passenger seat with his hand on my leg comforting me, protecting me, telling me it's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. He was yelling at my uncle at the time. Can you go any faster than this? I asked my dad when he said to him I'm going so fast, I'm pretty sure the speed armor is coming up on the other side. This is all this shit he's got. It was him that I noticed my dad's right side was shaking uncontrollably. Later I would learn his body was going into shock. He couldn't stop the shaking. But that left hand, steady and honest on my thigh as he told me everything was going to be okay. But my dad, everything was always going to be okay. That's hero shit. When I was in the eighth grade I broke my foot trying to chunk a basketball in gym class. The school called my dad and he said don't touch him. I want everybody to know. In the eighth grade I was probably 62, 2245, right, in the words of Ryan Chespen probably full of chocolate. 62, 2245, full of chocolate. My dad walked into the gymnasium, walked right up to me and scooped me up that was a newborn Carried me out of the gym and brought me to the hospital. To this day, my buddies are always. I can remember that time. Your dad came in and just picked you up, carried you up. That's hero shit. My dad taught me many redneck things that you can move anything with leverage. You don't need to pay for firewood or fencing. There's perfectly good free pilots out there. You can turn one axe into two and double your money. You can always turn a 10 into 100 if you know what you're looking for. But if I'm going to go stand up here and tell you guys a story about my father, it's obvious to me that I need to share with you guys the greatest lesson that I've ever learned in my life, and I apologize that this is going to get a little bit long, but I don't really care. Now. I did not attend college but I have been fortunate enough to travel the country to enroll in Excel and the most demanding courses in my specific areas of interest by industry experts. I was challenged by a millionaire business tycoon to bet on myself and leave everyone and everything I knew and move to Tennessee. I was welcomed to one of the most successful business families in Maine history, working my way into being a partner at our Holly Davis and dealership. With all these experiences and interactions, the best advice I ever received did not come from a book, a professor or business tycoon. It came from someone who left school at all accounts around the fifth grade and went to work. The greatest life lesson I ever learned came from my old man. Now I know many of you know this story. My day one's out there. There's a few of you out there. I know you know this story, but I need to take a little time to kind of paint the picture so you guys can understand. 23 years ago I was a senior in high school. Damn, my desire to be the center of attention led me to do some dumb things. I go down some dark roads filled with poor decisions and failed aspirations. I battled self-confidence with comedy and alcohol. You can use your imagination and fill in the details on that. As a summer of 2000 approach, in my high school, graduation neared, I came to the disappointing realization that would be the only one of my friends that did not choose a trade or choose a college. My friends all did a much better job preparing for their future and choosing their dreams. My decision to not pursue school was influenced by a few hard processes of realization. Number one I was adamant that I would pay for my own schooling. My genius plan is that I was going to rely on a failed high school football scholarship to pay for my education. Number two my grades are rather undesirable. Number three I didn't know what I wanted to do. And number four was the hardest pill to swallow, and that's that. I knew I wasn't mature enough to make it. I fully understood my preference to party would take priority over my education and I would fail my way out of school. It was at that time that my parents gave me the most amazing and shocking graduation gift you could imagine A gift of retirement, that's right. My parents sat me down and said listen, we know you don't know what you want to do, but we know you will be successful in whatever you choose, but, just like us, you'll have to work your ass off to achieve it. So you want to gift you a year of retirement, because the moment you decide what you want to do, you will spend the rest of your life working for it. You will have to work your ass off at least 50 years before you get another gift of retirement again. Let me tell you I enjoyed retirement. One thing my parents didn't give me was spending cash. So if I wanted something, I had to work for it. Now you can imagine me being a teenager with a girlfriend and no responsibilities and no money. I needed to make some money. My dad was an amazing provider for the family. As I mentioned, he owned his own business Steel cutting and demolition. So the logical thing to do is go to work for my dad to earn a little spending cash. Right, I started a lot of this a day or two a week, but it turned into full time. Now I wasn't making with the other family members work, but I provided enough cash that I was hoping for it and I had a few trades my dad could put to use A big wingspan and a strong back. I became the ox for the business. Low thinking and high effort those were my. That's what was required of me. I always felt that a disappointment in my dad that I didn't inherit some of his talents. It was a marvel with a welder or a cutting torch. If you're here, you've probably had my dad fix your frame or builds your trailer or make you a lawn ornament. One day we were in Augusta on a job site and I had this big gas metal tank we had to remove. My dad thought that we could save some time and he could take me under his wing and teach me how to cut steel. The tank must have been 40 or 50 feet long and he just thought I could save us a bunch of time and all I had to do was hold it straight, keep it steady and move it slow. About an hour in, I could feel people staring at me. To my surprise, a group of construction workers had gathered around my dad and he appeared to be holding court at this time, making everyone laugh. It was then I heard one man say hey, art, you always cut steel like that, and my dad laughed and said only one, I'm drinking. I stepped back to notice that that straight line looked more like a heartbeat and I appeared that was cut and steel with Parkinson's disease, because I couldn't keep that too straight. Being here, you might know a few things about my dad. Number one, hearing has never been a strong suit. Nothing about him is quiet or polite. His vocabulary is rather eclectic and spending time with him you might learn some new words and you would be in the presence of the only man that can properly use the word fuck as a comma. Seeing how we are sharing a little more embarrassing stories, I should probably tell you guys until I was 13, I'm pretty sure I thought my name was Cocksucker. His presence, his personality, his booming voice it all commands attention. So you can imagine anyone and everyone's reaction to being on a job site and frequently hearing hey, you fucking cocksucker. So I would get up before the sun, climb in the cab my dad struck, get embarrassed and envious until we got home. I would shut my mouth, bite my tongue and pretend to be a loving son until I got home and I would bitch him over to my mother. I would say you have no clue how awful this guy is. This guy fucking hates me. There was one job in northern Maine that we had it out, and if the walk home was under 15 hours I would have fucking tried it. I worked with my dad for maybe a few months or a year and at that time my biggest memory and most difficult job was the one he took at a sewage treatment plant. Why don't we set the scene for it? For those of you in Maine, the sewage treatment plant was in Wells. It was pretty close to the beach. Those of you that don't live in Maine, it's a pretty sweet spot in our state, also a high income tourist attraction right along the water. Now, being freshly out of high school, my head all swivel checking out chicks and bikinis, earmuffs on it I want you to hear that it's a good spot, unless you're working at a damn sewage treatment plant. Now, if you haven't been in one of these plants, let me describe it to you. Imagine these cement walkways and these little catwalks. That goes down the middle and on the side of these big square cement tanks. They must be 20, 30 feet deep. Inside these big tanks are these huge slabs of metal. From the top they look like a big ceiling fan. Imagine each blade of the ceiling fan is like an eight or 10 foot tall slab of steel, these slabs of steel that make that big fan. They spin around paddling poop all day, beating turds in a submission, basically pulverizing poop. These poop paddles, what's called them? They're multiple tanks in this facility, all divided by these catwalks. As you walk along the catwalk and lean over the fence, you can look down and see how deep the tank is when it's empty. If not empty, then the surface level is full of human feces. These paddles go around and pulverize poop until this foam appears. So imagine yourself close to a beach, basically in a greenhouse of human shit. That pretty much what it feels like. It's a big greenhouse with the shittiest ventilation. No pun intended. I had to imagine my dad was the only demolition company in the damn country that'd been on this job, because nothing about it was appealing. We were hired to come in there and remove these giant metal fan poop paddles. So the only way that you could do that was to have the tank empty, and then my dad would go to the bottom of the tank with his torches, cut these big metal structures apart and we've already established that I'm not qualified to operate a torch, so I was relegated to manual labor. My dad would cut these big sheets of steel into sections and then he would cut a hole in it at the top and you would lower like a hook down, grab this plate and haul it out and then I would have one handle to hold onto and then the sheet of steel and the other one so you hoist them out of the hole and you carry them along the catwalk. We had this job for probably a month. I won't bore you with all the details in those 30 days working on a shit plant, but I will tell you it's my least favorite day. So we get to the old shit plant first thing in the morning. I don't want to start cleaning up, moving things around and I blow up my pants. Yup dominated them, I blew them right out and I have this big hole in the crotch and it's slowly making its way to my meek at. And I tell the old man, hey, I got to steal the truck, I got to head home and get some pants. And he says bullshit, we don't have time for that, get back in there, I'll get back to work. That's when I noticed everybody else's slabs of steel were like half the size of mine. Nice small pieces. You get able to get a good grip on them, take them down the catwalk. You can hold them away from your body. Mine are twice that size. They're actually so big and heavy that I have to lay them across my head, my shoulder and part of my back, my entire arm. I'm clearing these sheets of steel like this down this little tiny catwalk, trying not to fall in a tank of poo in the first place, and I would quasi-modo my way all the way across this little catwalk, completely impossible to keep my face and human poo separated. Now, as we're approaching lunchtime, the next tank that we're going to clean up has not been completely cleaned. There's probably two feet of human sludge at the bottom of this tank. Now, typically we don't have to handle that. This is an actual poo plant technical term here the poo plant employees which shovel that out for us. But they've gone to lunch and apparently my dad had plans of getting this done before lunch. So he says well, my boy will take care of it. I'm looking around and seeing if one of my brothers is here, thinking why the hell would he volunteer for this job? I don't see anyone. And then it was them that I realized that my dad whacked the hard hat off my head and I watched it fall 20 feet and laying in a pile of poo. He said get in there, boy. He said, sweet, I get down there and start shoveling shit into tubs to be hosted out of the tank. I won't tell you everything I saw, but I will say I'm rather surprised by some of the things you can flush in a toilet doll heads, arms, several condoms, plastic gloves, sex toys, whatever else by the time. By this time, the rip in my pants has made its way all the way down to my ankle, so it does not protect me from splattering, smearing or any other incidentals. To put that politely, I smell awful. We get this job done. I get the tank cleaned up. We cut the blades, we haul it out, we get to the truck and my dad decides we should stop for lunch at KFC. In the middle of the summer at Wells Beach I smell like human shit. Not like it's actual human shit. If any of you here live in Wells and you took a shit in the summer of 2000, fuck you. Anyway, we get to KFC, I'm in the truck. I don't remember my order but I'm like yeah, dad, give me a fucking crispy, I'll be right here. And he affectionately says boy, you want to eat? Get up off your ass, come inside. I'm not ordering for you. So I go inside. I smell like the Loch Ness sewage monster. I'm standing in line trying to keep my my delegates in my pants, doing the absolute best I can to block out all the people that are staring at me that are talking shit. Internally I'm crumbling. Remember looking over at some attractive girls, one of the tractors doing it? I'm trying not to lock eyes with them, but I could pretty much predict what they're saying about me just by the look in their face. I ordered, I get our food and I start to walk out and my dad says where are you going, you with me? I'm gonna take my stinky ass to the truck. I'm gonna eat my eight piece and one piece to fuck out. And he says no, we're eating right here. My dad is actually not known to be somebody that likes to hang out inside restaurants, so clearly he was trying to do this for a reason. I sat there and finished my meal. For all the comments, snickers, all the looks, to that point in my life it very easily was the most embarrassing moment I've ever experienced. I felt like the lowest of lows. The dirtiest of homeless guy would have told me I looked off. That routine of daily lunches at Wells Beach continued for the rest of the week. Fast forward to Friday, run our way home and getting paid. Today I'm gonna do my best to not think about the work week. My dad leans over and he turns off the radio and he says boy, do you have fun this week. I said, dad, I really love you, but this wasn't a lot of fun. My dad looks right at me and says good, you're fired. I'm fired. I did everything you wanted me to do. I busted my ass. I did more than I ever wanted to do. My dad looked me right in my eyes again and said you're fired. I looked over at me and he said boy, I've been doing this shit my whole life. I do this work, so you and your mother don't have to. I never want to see you do this job again. You're fired. Find yourself a job with an air conditioner where you can stay inside If you want to make your dad proud. Ever do this shit again. And then he said the truck I'm driving you can have it. Find yourself a job, make something of your life. Next day we accidentally threw a piece of steel for the back window of that truck. Luckily for him, it was my truck. Then Also, it was the same truck we took on a hell ride from Root Flare to the hospital. But there you go, my dad fired me. First time I'd ever been fired in my life was my dad. I came home I bawled my eyes out. I went to my mom and I said dad just fired me. She said I know. From that moment on I've tried to make my dad proud Every single day. My dad, he busted my ass. He beat me to a pulp, literally had me shuffling human shit. You could pretty much grab a handful of shit and smear it all over me, throw loaded diapers all over my back and then make me lunch basically in the middle of the mall. That's pretty much how it was. He busted my ass every day To this day. I've never worked so hard in my life and then, when I did, broke it for my dad. He beat the living shit out of me. He did it all to prove a point, to teach me a lesson. That lesson you don't need an education to make a living. If you use your head instead of your back, there's a lot easier ways to pay your bills. The lesson my dad taught me, that experience I will never forget. It is the single most important lesson I've ever learned in my life. Didn't come from a book, didn't come from a professor, came from my old man. Dad, I can't thank you enough for the values you instilled in me and I can say that I hope I make you proud. But I don't need to say hope, because I know I made my dad proud Because he's told me and anybody around me just how he feels many, many times. But if it wasn't for that lesson that I learned from him, I wouldn't be who I am or where I am. So thanks, dad, for the biggest ass-pulpit of my life that there is hero shit. About 20 years later I sat down at the dinner table with my wife and my mother. I was about to tell my dad my biggest accomplishment. During dinner I said, dad, I have to tell you something. He looked up at me and I said never think you're somebody on a Harley-Davidson dealership. He looked at me funny and I said today made me a partner at the Harley dealership. He was so damn happy for me and he was proud. But what surprised me is nothing changed. It's not like I all of a sudden unlocked this super secret level of pride in my dad that was hidden that we just clicked into. A few days later we were talking and he said son, I'm so proud of you, but I want you to be cautious, don't get too excited. Don't live outside your means. You can all go away in a minute. I said I know, dad, but it ain't going anywhere. We're set for life. I can imagine that my dad was thinking back to what happened with him and his business partner when his partner burned him. About a year later I sat down at that same table for another dinner. This time I had to tell him dad, I lost the dealership, my partners want to sell it and I can't do anything about it. He said it's OK, you'll be OK. Much to my surprise, he was just as proud of me. Then Nothing had changed. When I told him I wanted to start my own business, I said I want to take everything, every cent I have. I'm going to start my own clothing brand. It's going to be named Low-Crowed American. We're going to support American manufacturing. I don't know a damn thing about clothing brands. I have to take night classes to learn how to design, but I think I can make a small office in my garage. My dad said that's a great idea. I told you you'd be OK. A few days later my dad said you know what I just said I'm going to start my own business. I just can't sleep. I keep thinking about it. You're going to need a bigger office, that's the belief my old man had of me. No, I don't think you can do it Not. You should just stay at your job and collect a paycheck. He couldn't sleep because my office was too small, so we built an office in his basement. It's a lot bigger than I wanted. Now it's way too small, but nobody's ever believed in me the way my dad has. My dad was just as proud as me when I owned a Harley-Davidson dealership as when we built an office in his basement. When I left the HD, it was crushing. I felt like I lost my identity. I can honestly stand here today and say it was a blessing. You see, when I was chasing that dream, it was at all costs, non-stop, no breaks, no days off. When I disappeared from that dealership, I told every single person I could I'm going to build a barn with my old man. Me and my dad spent so much time together. Too often in life we only look for surface value. We don't dig beneath the appearance. Even in the dark of days and the most difficult of times, you will find an opportunity and a lesson learned. When I changed careers and started my business, just a few months later COVID hit and the world stopped. You know what I did? I spent every minute possible with my old man. I wouldn't trade those days for all the money in the world. When I was a kid, I often struggled to communicate with my dad. He always told me he loved me, but he was too damn intimidating. His bark was worse than his bite. Between deciphering the square words and assessing the decibel level, I often took his communication as yelling and screaming. He was a man's man, a real life cowboy, a badass and a renegade. I worked so hard for his approval I wanted nothing more than to make him proud. I used to beg my mother Help me understand him. I began to realize he had no problem telling anyone and everyone how proud he was of me, except me. As I grew older and I matured, our relationship changed. He told me every day that he loved me. He told me he was proud of me Every chance he got. I couldn't leave for an overnight event with the business without giving him a hug and him telling me he loved me. The last event that I left my dad for was the Freiburg Fair. Allie and I left on a Friday. By Monday I was before the fair opened. There was my dad there to see my display. That told me how proud he was. That Thursday, october 5th at 847 AM, I got a phone call I'll never forget. I was getting some stock out of my truck when Mike Packard called. He said I don't want to alarm you, but I was just told that your father was coughing up blood when he passed out of the flea market. They called mine 1-1 and I'm on my way there now. Mike later called me back from the ambulance and I could hear my dad refusing attention in his typical fashion. Thankfully, mike was there. Basically, my dad refused to go to the hospital. Mike convinced him he would give him a ride home. He got a Mike's truck. They headed home. To my dad's disappointment, he drove right past our house into the hospital. Allie met them there. A lot of difficult things ensued. Allie's patience and love was tested. She proved herself In the darkest of times, on the most difficult of days. You proved yourself. You proved your love and your loyalty. I want you to know that Pops loved you as his own and you're one of the only ones that could have taken care of that situation. I have something here. It goes a little off script. Sorry, my script's long. You don't know about this and you know of it but you've never seen it. And this is going to be a gift from me and my dad to you, because I proposed to my wife on her birthday and it was on Father's Day and we had this big talk down drag all before and I wrote this up for my dad, I gave it to my mom. Now, fast forward to about 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning. We're arguing about something and I tell my mother don't you give that fucking card to my old man unless I give you the go. We drove all the way to Bangor to see Brad Pazette, a dino ring in my pocket, and we didn't talk until I don't know what exit 100 something. Yeah, I think it was Waterville when you finally spoke to me.

Yeah, she had to go to the bathroom to do as much as we could, so I was in silence.

So there's this card that I left from my dad on Father's Day and it's a dad. Even if you never did anything, if you never did another thing in your life, it'd still be a great man in my eyes Because of all you've taught me, all you've done and all you are. I know I'm really lucky to have a dad like you. It's like you've always been bigger than life to me a teacher, a protector, a buddy and someone whose opinion really matters to me a lot. And even though raising me wasn't always easy, you hung in there, give me the benefit of the doubt and teach me what I needed to know to go out into the world and do well. Inside here there's a note to my dad that said I love you, dad. Thank you for sharing. Thank you for showing me how to be a man and what it means to believe in something and to work hard for what you want out of life. In the 31 years of my life, you have also showed me the meaning of true love and what it takes to have a happy home with an amazing wife. So today I'm going to ask Allison to mirror to me. You have always wanted the best for me and you have always told me I deserve the most in life and hold out for someone amazing. But once again you were right. I found that amazing someone and she brings out the best in me. I hope I make you proud today when I ask Allison to be my wife, because you have always made me proud. When I was at the ferry, allison sent me a video of my dad and I instantly knew that it was bad. It was too far out of his character. It was serious. Me and my mom agreed that she needed to leave. My cousin Joey came and picked her up, stopped everything he was doing and came and grabbed my mom, brought her there to be by his side. We found out that he may have had a heart attack or a stroke at the flea market, but his intestines actually ruptured and detached from his colon. He was septic, had to go in for emergency surgery. Now this might sound crazy, but when I heard that, I was encouraged because I've had that surgery, my mom's had that surgery and I knew he'd be OK the next morning. As stressed as I was the entire time, I received some encouraging news and by Sunday it appeared that my dad would become home sooner than later. He was sitting up in a chair and my mom left to go get him some comfortable clothes. She was quickly called back to the hospital because he had a heart attack. He flatlined and he needed to be brought back. I spoke to my dad on the phone and I could hear in his voice that he was scared. All my dad wanted to do was to ask me how's it going? How much are you selling? So I tried to put the focus back on him. He wouldn't let me, he wouldn't let me off the phone without telling me how proud he was of me. We both cried and I tried to change the subject. As soon as we got to the hospital in Bideford he was up, he was cheery, he was perky and he wanted to know how well we did. My dad was a fan favorite of the nurses. I can always tell what kind of day my dad was going to have based on how attractive his nurse was. It was one visit to the Bideford hospital where he began to tell Ali that he was disappointed that we haven't given him a grandchild yet and he said I need a little buck running around. I want a boy this big with a beard running around the house. He proceeded to tell every nurse that came in that room that my wife does not know how to make kids. We insisted that we were focusing on practicing. While in Bideford, the plan was to get him to Portland, awaiting improvement on his kidneys, to receive a catheterization determining if he had a heart blockage. My dad was excited. He was excited to get to the hospital and get us behind him. Unfortunately, my dad never got the test that he intended. His condition worsened On Friday, october 20,. The three of us had a great visit with my dad, full of hopes and plans. Ali and I had to leave for a quick wedding rehearsal. On my way back to the hospital, my mom called to tell us they want to check dad for cancer. They want to do a bone biopsy, which is scary to us because that's how they found my brother's cancer. But my dad was in good spirits. He said you guys heard they want to test me for cancer and he followed up with but if they catch it early we can beat it. I'm not worried, everything is going to be OK. The next day I dropped my mom off the hospital. Ali and I went to marry two of our great friends for a year today. That night when I got home from the surgery, one of my mom received a dozen phone calls informing us that my dad was being transferred to a different floor. He was worried about his condition. The infection had begun to get out of control. He was going in for emergency surgery. It was all hands on deck. The next day when I arrived at the hospital to see my dad, he was on a ventilator. He was out of it. I couldn't handle it. I began to worry that he's not going to be OK. From that day my dad had good days and bad. We had some real tough times, conversations and moments that I never want to remember, but they're washed away with conversations and memories that I will cherish forever. Every single CNA R and her doctor that went into my dad's room. He wouldn't answer their questions until he introduced anybody and everybody and tell them all that's my beautiful wife. Can you believe how beautiful she is and how lucky I am? Every morning we walked in we'd get our ass chewed about where we've been. He would yell at us for a couple of minutes and very quickly he would ask my mother for a hug. You begin to cry and tell her I love you and I miss you. We kept pushing for answers and begging for results. We were reassured by the oncology team that they weren't worried. They informed us that his cancer that we think that he has won't affect the quality of his life. They assured us that they wouldn't even treat the cancer until he was out of the hospital, out of rehab and home and feeling better. They were planning outpatient injections. A week before my dad passed we were making plans to get him to rehab. We were told they could fix his heart with medicine. His infection was clearing. Only thing holding him back from rehab was a bed sore and two doctors already signed off on him being transferred. We were making plans to potentially have him home for Thanksgiving. Just a couple of days later we received a phone call from the oncology team and I heard them speaking with my mother and I heard the words leukemia. I instantly knew we were in trouble because this is not the cancer we were prepared for. The next day, while meeting with the cancer team, the conversation took an abrupt turn and I quickly got the impression that they were not planning on treating my dad's cancer. I asked the doctor. It snaps to me like you're looking to transfer my dad to your treatment floor, but you're not planning on any treatment. Are you telling me my dad needs to go to hospice? And she said your dad is a very sick man. And that's where this conversation is going. Yes, unfortunately, your dad's body is starting to shut down and it is not strong enough to handle any of the treatments. The chemotherapy will kill him faster than his cancer. This obviously came as a massive shock. She explained to my dad that he had cancer. I left the room to collect myself. When I returned, he asked me to sit next to him and he said Buck, could you hear I've got cancer? I said yeah, I heard. And he held my hand and he said I don't know how much more of this shit I can handle. And he collected himself, pat on my hand and he said it's OK, I'm going to be OK. And he protected me again. The next day I went to visit my dad. He was in good spirits, he seemed stronger. His doctor sat with us and she asked us what do you guys think? How does he look today? Actually, he looks a lot better. He looks stronger. She said well, his numbers have gotten worse. She really costumed us to move him to hospice. So we weren't ready for that. That evening, ali, my mom and I, we said our goodbyes as we were walking out the door, ņ staring at me. I turned around and I looked. I had this mysterious look on his face. I didn't want him to see me cry, so I turned around and I headed for the door. As it began to close, I heard him say I love you. I turned around, I shot the door. I walked to his bedside. His eyes were closed. I placed my head next to his and I hugged him and I said I love you and I began to cry. He started to panic. He frantically asked me what's wrong? What's the matter? What happened? As I backed up, I said nothing happened. He looked me in my eyes and he said what do you want to tell me? I said I want to tell you that I love you so much. Thank you for being the best dad I could ever hope for. Thank you for 41 years. I want to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry all this is happening and I'm truly sorry. I never gave you a grandson. I hope and pray that someday I could be half as good a father to my son as you've been to me. He said son, you'll be great. It's all in what you make it. He pulled me close to me, he hugged me and he said you made it easy, you're the best boy. You just kept holding me, rubbing my back. I cried like a child and my dad rubbed my back and just kept saying you're the best boy. For the first time since I was a little boy, I kissed my dad and I told him I loved him. He looked deep into my eyes and said I'm so proud of you and I never have to worry about you. You're always going to be okay. I don't worry about you anymore. Before I move forward, I want to thank Joanne from the Aronba Flea Market. On October 5th she called 911. I want to thank Fred. I know Fred's still in here. I want to thank Fred and you're here. Quick thinking and concern for my dad resulted in a call from Mike Packard. Mike, you dropped everything random my dad. When my phone rang, I was scared. Your voice was calm, steady and comforting. There's very select few that could have handled my dad on that day. I'm so thankful that it was you, joey Donaghan. You dropped everything. You spent two hours in the car running to my mom and rushing her out of the hospital Allie, my wife what should I say? My dad's daughter. My dad was in pain, was in infection, was taking over. There were only two people who would have ever that he would have ever listened to my mother and you. Thank you, joanne, fred, mike, joey, allie. It's important for me to say thank you, thank you to each and every one of you. It has been proven that if you all didn't act the way you did, my father would have went home and died in his chair alone. My wife would have been the one to find him. My mother and I would have lived with the guilt of not being there. And that moment on Thursday November 16th, when I was able to share so much with my hero that never would have happened. The visits with his sister, all the times I heard him tell my mother how much he loved her. None of that would have happened. So thank you. After a lot of thought and conversation, we decided that my dad should spend the weekend in the hospital and be given the opportunity to show us a miracle. Friday morning, my aunt, my mother and Allie spent the morning with him. I arrived in the afternoon. I walked in to see my dad slouched in bed. It was almost as if for the first time I noticed he was sick. He was frail. I could see every bone in his back, all of his ribs. He was pale. He was weak and I was scared. Everybody had a concerned look on their face and they told me he's gallbladder was inflamed and failing. The doctors were talking about another emergency surgery and we knew there was no miracle to be had. He could no longer stand, his body was failing, but his mind was strong. He continued to use that mind to protect us. Friday November 17th was a blessing and a curse. I always talk about being uncomfortable, that growth comes from uncomfortable conversations, that if you want to live a fulfilling life, you need to get comfortable being uncomfortable. Friday November 17th was the most uncomfortable conversation I'd ever been a part of. We wanted to know and understand fully grasp what was happening. With clear mind, we asked the doctors to speak with him and tell him what was happening. Being there around your father's bed with your mother, your wife and your aunt, as a doctor tells your dad he's dying and he doesn't have long to live. That's the worst thing I've ever been a part of, but I knew it needed to happen. My dad said everybody, if you think I'm dying without a fight, you're fucking wrong. The most challenging, heartbreaking, rewarding and comforting conversations took place that day. We covered uncomfortable topics. We asked a lot of questions. He told us what he wanted, who he wanted, what he didn't want, who he didn't want. The question would always come up Was there anything you want to say to Buck? And he would say I already taught him everything and he knows everything. Aunt Helen said you're going home to Buck and you're leaving us. You're Buck. I made sure many times. I thank him for all he had done. I followed it as again for not giving him a grandson. The greatest act of love and most heartbreaking thing I've ever witnessed and will ever witness in my life is my mother and father saying goodbye to each other. My dad telling my mother how beautiful she is, how lucky he is, how fortunate he's been. He didn't want to go on without her. Every chance he got he would tell my mother just how much he appreciates her, that she's the love of his life and as she has been since the moment he saw her. I think as adults we always strive to live a life of meaning, to feel we have done our part to better the world we lived in, to fulfill promises, to make memories, to not waste opportunities. I've always feared that feeling that when the time is up, my work was unfinished. My dad certainly wasn't ready to go, but he absolutely wanted us to know that he was proud of what he had done and he kept saying I'm happy with everything. He had a great life, we have had a great life and I'm happy with the way it went. Frowning over the 17th at 8 pm my mother and I were in the room and my dad arrived at Gosnell Hospice House. He couldn't see us, he couldn't hear us. We watched them bring him to bed. We saw how much pain he was in. I snuck over to his bedside, out of his view. A nurse from hospice asked him if he knew where he was. He said yes, I'm at the hospice house in Scarborough. She asked him do you need anything? Can I do anything for you? Can I make you comfortable? My dad said no, I'm comfortable, just knowing I'm here. He told her this two sons had died there. As she was getting my dad ready. He has a tattoo of my brother that passed away on his arm. My dad's skin's hardened leather right it's calloused hands. That tattoo looked like shit for the past five or six years. It looked brand new. The lady that was putting him in bed said did you get this tattoo? Is that new? That's how fresh it looked. The other thing about my dad was his hands. His hands were like catcher's mitts and it was this hardened leather full of calluses. When my dad passed he had the softest hands. It was ironic to me that I woke up in the morning when my dad passed and I showed all of my hands and they were full of calluses. When my hands got like dark and cracked after my dad realized we were both there, we began to chat about things. Nurses were in and out working on him to get him comfortable. Each one would ask him what he needed. To each and every one he would say you see that big boy down there and he would point to the edge of the bed you see that big boy down there on the brown shirt. They would look at me and say, yes, that's when my dad would say protect him, protect him at all costs. His head nurse looked over, she looked at me, she looked back at him and she said I think that boy down there has become a man. He spent your whole life protecting him. He's going to protect you. The last thing I heard my dad say was protect that boy at all costs. We had a much shorter state hospice than we envisioned but we were fortunate to be surrounded by so many loved ones to make memories, to share memories, and I'm going to share one more quick story with you about a memory that was made over the past few days that we were there. If you guys know me being on the fair, traveling around all these circuits at every fair I was at this year just a few boots down for me. Another vendor there was the Gideons. Matt would know who that is. You guys probably wouldn't know who that is. If you're not a fair goer then you won't really know who that is. They're the folks that hand out free bibles, these small pocket sized bibles. At the first fair of the season I was given a Bible. It has traveled to every fair the rest of the season and I'm sad to say it was unopened. When my dad moved to hospice, my uncle was adamant that we read, or have someone read, psalm 23 to my dad. I had packed an overnight bag the same bag that travels to every fair with me. I opened a side pocket and, to my surprise, I pulled out that tiny pocket Bible. I opened to page 486 and I read Psalm 23. The last night that my dad was with us, I slept on the couch in his room. My mom was right by his side. My mother woke up in the morning and she said we should probably pick things up before people start to show up. I said, mom, we're going to get a lot of visitors today. Is there anything you want to say to dad? And she said no, I've been talking to them all night. I said I have a few things I need to say to them. I knew as hard as my dad has always fought to protect us, but I needed to tell him it was okay. I spent this all this time preparing myself for this conversation, to thank him again for all of his love, to tell him it's okay. I need to tell him that I will pick up where he left off, that I will protect my mother like he always did. I will protect my wife the way he showed me. I will make him proud. And to tell him that it's okay, we're going to be okay. I needed to tell him that we were going to be okay. I walked over to his bedside and I placed one chair for my mother. I went back to my bag. I grabbed this Bible, I grabbed the second chair and I started to bring the chair closer to my dad's bed. I could hear my mom's voice change. I started asking what was going on. I sat down by my dad's head. My mom was frantic. I looked and I knew my dad had passed All the way up until my dad's last breath. He protected me. He protected me from the day I was born to his last breath. He did not want me to see him take his last breath. He did not want me to have to say what I was prepared to say. He protected me. He knew what I wanted to say and he protected me. I looked at him and I said you, fucking asshole. He protected me. This was my chance, my chance to take care of you, and you couldn't let me do it. I held him in my arms and I told him everything I wanted to tell him. I pulled out this Bible and we prayed just like I planned. November 19, 744 am. My hero protected me all the way to his last breath. That's hero, shit. Monday morning, starting our first day without my dad and my mother. My wife and I were planning to head right here to Cody's. Allie and I were finishing up barn chores. I was bent over plugging in electric fence when I heard Allie having a conversation with herself. I asked her what she was talking about. I could hear her mumble out the word eagle. I looked at her and she said you gotta be kidding me, that's a bald eagle. She pointed to the sky above me. I looked up, prepared to take the role of my dad and say no, that's a damn vulture. Allie and my dad always argued about eagles in the sky and my dad would tell her no, that's a vulture or that's a hawk. So I looked up, prepared to tell her she was looking at another vulture. To my surprise, I saw these large wings with a beautiful white head and tail. It was a bald eagle. It circled the barn checking on his animals. It circled over us watching us work. I started to cry as I watched this eagle circle the entire property. Allie ran to get my mother. I followed under the eagle as it flew over the house. It sort of headed me and went off to an area of the property where the three of us had been doing all this work while my dad was in the hospital. He wanted to clean these things up for him and I kept telling my mom that I'd been scared that he was never going to see the work that we had done. Well, I just wanted him to relax and I was stressed that he didn't get the chance to see that. But I saw that eagle go over and circle that property and check out everything that we've been doing, as if to say good job, son. I walked over to my dad's workshop, the one we built during COVID. I sat on a monument he wanted to build. As I bawled my eyes out, that eagle soared out of sight. I talked to my dad, told him I missed him and I'm sorry. I told him I only wanted to protect him and I said I hope you're okay, I just want you to be okay. I begged that eagle to come back. To my surprise, it flew out of the clouds. It returned to us, soared through the sky so majestic, so free. It must have spent five or ten minutes with us and it vanished out of sight. I knew then we had done right. He was free and he was safe and he was okay, and he was home Just the moment my dad passed. I've been waiting for a sign. I've seen cardinals, squirrels, blue jays it was all comforting but it didn't feel right. But a bald fucking eagle that's hero shit. We got here to Cody's you guys might notice these cards. We got here and we were working with Dave and he was picking out credit cards and he flipped to the back of the book and said if you guys want to take a look, there's some custom ones. And on the top was Psalm 23, which my uncle asked me to read. I'm right below. It was a picture of an eagle. So we really felt that my dad picked out his own card. I'm going to wrap up today's service by just continuing a quick theme on signs, but by focusing on the spiritual side of life. For the past couple of years I've been trying to find my way. Looking to learn more about the Lord is a few people that I'm drawn to. Everyone needs someone that you can relate to or that can command your attention. Some are local, some are famous. Today I want to mention David Jeremiah. I find myself watching tourney point on the cowboy channel. A month ago I was walking through Walmart and I found a book from David, but I was on a mission to do something that didn't buy it. On our way to the hospice house, we stopped at Walmart for coffee and Ali was in line. I ran to the back of the store on a mission. I grabbed this book right here. David, jeremiah, walking with God. These are daily devotions, right, you take each day and you read. I still got the sticker on the back that I just bought this dancing. You look up every day. This sat in my book bag. I didn't have the courage to read it when I was there with my dad. I was too focused on him. When I was writing this I said I wonder what the daily devotion was the day that my dad passed. So I took Walking with God and I looked up November 19th Galatians, chapter 6, verse 2, bear one or other's burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ. This has double meaning for me today. First, this is without question my dad Bear one another's burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ. This gives me a great deal of peace, knowing my dad lived his life fulfilling the law of Christ. Bearing others burdens is a calling card of author liberty. He paid the burden of his entire family. None of us struggled alone. Nobody felt alone. He carried the load. He was always there, in good times and bad. His strength and belief never wavered. Bear one another burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ. Joanne, fred, mike, joey, ellie, if you did not bear my father's burden, we are telling a different story today. Each and every one of you that are here today I'm surprised by so many that are here today you are bearing the burden of our loss, each and every one in so many ways all the cards, the meals, the messages, the visits, the love, the support being here today, gathered here today. You are bearing the burden of the loss of author. This room is filled with passion and compassion. I encourage all of you to burden, to be a burden share and a burden bearer. Today, please turn to the person next to you and say I'm here for you as we leave. Today. I encourage you to join us at the evils and soco, where we have some extremely special things planned While we're there. If you see a stranger, introduce yourself, learn about each other, ask them what brought them here today, get a story about my old man, find something positive, say something positive and you will fulfill the law of Christ Arthur O Liberty Jr. To many of you he was already. To Kaelin and Dylan, he was Papa To Ally, he was Pops. To my mother, he was Babe. To me he was Dad, my biggest believer, my greatest protector, my old man. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to honor my hero. You can rest in peace because we're all going to be okay. That's it and that's all. Biggie Smalls, if you're a loud proud American and you find yourself just wanting more, find me on YouTube and Facebook at Loud Proud American, and put the face page as my mama calls it. If you're a fan of the Graham Cracker, you want to find me on Instagram, or all the kids by tickety-talking on the tick-tock. You can find me on both of those at Loud Proud American. A big old thank you to the boys from the Gut Truckers for the background beats and the theme song to this year's podcast. If you are enjoying what you're hearing, you can track down the Gut Truckers on Facebook. Just search Gut Truckers. You've been motherfuckers. I like to. I truly thank you for supporting my American dream. Now go wash your fucking hands, you filthy savage.