Sloan: Plenty of stories to tell about father

Until steel-mill asbestos stilled his breath in 1990 at 71, after four boot-tough years of battling, my carpenter father lived a full life.

link Wendel Sloan

Known for his bird dogs, fishing where he wanted and entertaining tales, Guy Sloan’s six kids, their significant others, and a rainbow of grandkids and great-grandkids he helped raise, have a book’s worth of mostly humorous anecdotes about the seventh-grade dropout who could out-run his four athletic, high school sons.

At 9 I was camping with friends in our east Texas barn when Daddy sneaked over after midnight and howled like a wolf. Scared witless, we screamed for Guy to bring his shotgun.

My late sister, Reba, remembered one of Daddy’s co-workers stealing men’s lunches. Guy ended it by sticking a dead mouse in his own sandwich and the co-worker taking a bite.

Daddy laughed when Reba told him she didn’t like my twin sister and me (the youngest) because, “Them babies are ugly.”

LaRue, a daughter-in-law English professor, remembers Daddy saddling a horse for her to ride to another pasture about two miles away. As the horse relentlessly turned into every driveway, Guy drove by in his pickup and yelled, “I’ll see ya’ tomorrow!”

Gary remembers quail-hunting with Daddy in pasture after pasture, with Guy walking and talking so fast his voice became barely audible in the darkening distance.

My oldest brother, Bud, remembers when we were so poor Daddy’s fishing and hunting provided welcomed protein.

One day Guy was fishing on a tree limb overhanging a neighbor’s pond. Suddenly, he yelled and fell into the water with a snake — then steadfastly denied the reason for his outburst.

Bud also remembers Daddy shooting a scrawny bird, skinning and removing its head, then telling Mother it was a small duck.

Gary once asked Daddy if he ever wanted to get in a car and just keep going. Guy’s simple reply: “You’d have to stop somewhere.”

Happy Father’s Day to Guy Sloan — and to fathers everywhere who play the role by biology or responsibility.

Contact Wendel Sloan at [email protected]