Remembering my father, Earl G. Fields

Hard to believe that my dad, Earl G. Fields, has been deceased 22 years. Dad was a remarkable man, a mining foreman for Harman Mining Co. for four decades & since we lived close, Dad was always on call to check on things like a failing pump or mine fan.
After Dad retired in 1975, he made the difficult decision to move to Bristol. Dad's health was failing & had been diagnosed with Black Lung and Emphysema. It hurt me to watch him struggle to breathe after the slightest exertion, but he kept pushing it and refused to give up. 

Remembering that I took time to go to his house and till him a good-sized garden, and O how he enjoyed watching things grow. He told me once that he didn't think he had ever made a trip to a garden without coming home with something good to eat.

Dad asked me to take him to see a lung specialist in Johnson City in the early 80's. I don't remember his name, but he did help Dad learn how to breathe to utilize his ailing lungs to the max...Dad would practice taking a deep breath & holding it for as long as he possibly could...& then let the air out slowly through pursed lips. Some other exercises too, but I can't remember them.

Dad did enjoy the last 20 years of his life in a new town. He loved being able to go to the Bristol Mall. Mom would go and walk, but Dad just liked to sit around and talk to new-made friends. Eating out was another thing they looked forward to. Long John Silver's and Shoney's were his favorites.

Dad also loved to shop, and since he would cut out coupons & check the ads in the Bristol paper, he would make his rounds to where the bargains were & when he found good ones, he would buy multiples and share them with his kids and others.

One life-long hobby my father had was to work the puzzle that appeared each day in the paper, and also the JUMBLE. I was always surprised how quickly he could unscramble the words. (I also work the JUMBLE every day and remember Dad every time I do.) Dad also liked the cartoons, and especially PICKLES, often cutting the cartoon out of the paper for his scrapbook.

Dad's zest for life allowed him to live to be 81 years old, living another 20 years with severely damaged lungs. He often mentioned how tickled he was that he had been able to lay the cigarettes down, because he felt that his lungs had improved just a little bit. A little bit goes a long way when you can't breathe.

The year before Dad died, Dad presented me with the best Christmas present ever. We were at their house just before Christmas & Dad said he had a present he wanted to give me. I couldn't imagine what it could be, thinking it was another pocket knife, or even a rare coin, but no, what met my eyes was a ETSU Class Ring from 1964. It was big and it was heavy & I found out later that Dad paid a pretty penny for it, making lots of telephone calls. When I graduated in 1964, things were kind of tough, so knowing this, I had told Dad that I didn't need a class ring, and truth to tell, I would have been perfectly fine without it, but just knowing how hard he had tried to buy me one 30 years later brought tears to me eyes.

The ring was too heavy to wear on a daily basis, but you just know that I kept it in a prominent place where I could see it and be reminded what a great daddy I had...And then one evening several years ago, we had visitors at our house & one young man stole it. I had made the mistake of showing it to him in my upstairs den & when it was time to go he said he had left his coat upstairs.

Unfortunately, I didn't miss it for about a week & then I put two and two together. Without proof, I knew I couldn't confront him. Feel certain that he sold it for cash, but I couldn't have put a price tag on it. Priceless!

Dad was just a real caring individual. Every week he would sit down at the kitchen table and write donation checks to numerous charities, and always his tithe check to the church...Without fail, week after week...

It's no fun to not be able to get your breath. All you can think about is where is your next breath coming from...I suffered from asthma as a kid, so I knew this first-hand. (Dad got Dr. Sutherland to come to our house at Harman one Christmas Eve when they thought I was dying.)

Dr. Sutherland gave me a shot of adrenaline that brought me around & by Christmas morning I wanted to go sleigh riding with Willard Owens and Freddy Carter. My parents reluctantly agreed, but it was such a joy to be breathing the cool, crisp morning air. Quite a turnaround!

Watching Dad struggle to breathe the last year of his life was heart-wrenching. TV didn't matter. Food didn't matter...Nothing mattered but the next breath.

Dad's last words through labored breaths were:
"How m-much L-L-longer d-do I have left D-Doc?"

The doctor told him he didn't know and Dad didn't like that a bit, and he died a short time later.

But Dad lived a good long life. 81 is 11 years longer than the 70 years the Bible mentions as a life span, and he lived life with gusto. A great cook, gardener, conversationalist, boss, friend, grandfather, father, husband...(I loved his wife too!)...LOL

I know Mother's Day is coming up, so I guess this is an early Father's Day tribute.