Quite a few of you will find this boring because it just some history of our family...
(#1 in a series)
So feel free to skip on to another blog.
My dad drove a Greyhound Bus.
Its the only job I ever remember him having.
Before he entered the military service for World War 2
he drove bus for Greyhound.
(His military service is another whole post...)
As a child, we were reminded quite often,
shhh - daddy's sleeping.
His hours had him leaving sometimes mid-day, sometimes mid-evening.
My mother did not drive, so we were happily home-bound and we didn't even know we were "missing out".
We traveled sometimes by bus on a free "pass" because daddy was an employee of the company.
We went to Oklahoma one year to meet relatives we didn't even know we had until by accident contact was made. (this was before the internet and finding someone turned easy)
Oh, the days and nights of riding in a bus seat, breathing in the diesel smell and the tiny diners
along the way where the bus refueled or had short meal breaks.
And, then there was sitting next to a perfect stranger and waking up and finding your head resting on his shoulder!
Hamburgers - 5 for $1
Yep, that's right 5 hamburgers for one dollar!
**************
Every so many years he would get a pin that recognized his
safe driving. After a while, those pins started building up and
he had a belt buckle made with all of them on it.
On his last driving trip, he had a bus load of customers
and was hit head-on by a drunk driver in a car with 5 occupants.
They all perished, but not one of dad's riders were injured.
As a result of holding the steering wheel steady, with
his arms locked to his side, he suffered several broken ribs.
That, in turn, caused a blood clot to travel up to his heart
and he suffered an injury caused heart attack a couple of days later.
Greyhound retired him from the driving force, he was only 51. (that seems so young now)
As a result of the heart attack, he took stock of his life and made sure
that he had asked the Lord Jesus Christ into his life for salvation.
The doctors gave him one year,
he lived for 10.
What a blessing.
Now, when I see a bus - load of passengers reclining back in their seats
and the driver guiding them through the highways and byways,
I am reminded of my dad.
I love to "hear" these old stories again and again. I always wish that I had known Grandpa Williamson.
ReplyDeleteMe too Lori, he would have loved all of his grandchildren so much!
ReplyDeleteI love these stories too Lori and I'm sure he would have loved all of his grandchildren so much! I'm very thankful that we know we will see him again in heaven with our Lord :)
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