The Ballad of Hold The Light Guy
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Like many men here, my first job of any importance was holding the flashlight for Daddy. Whatever he was working on, building, repairing, or piddling with, I was HOLD THE LIGHT GUY there with an old silver D-cell flashlight.
Now, believe it or not, he may have seemed mild-mannered…. but Daddy cussed at me….ONCE, when I was a teenager while working on our old Mazda GLC. I have been told there was also an incident when I peed on him as an infant but that doesn’t count. We probably need a moment of silence for his soul and my feelings….. for the “S word” he sent in my direction. Lucky for me, though he was an excellent pitcher, he missed me with the wrench he threw at my head.
Over the years I served in many capacities in addition to holding that flashlight.
From the time I could walk, I rode shotgun on deer drives with my trusty Daisy BB Gun to clean up any shots he might miss. Eventually, as I got older, I got my own shotgun, and then my own deer stand. He, along with other club members taught me to skin, clean, and process deer. We sat in COLD duck blinds and walked what seemed like 1000 miles looking for a covey of quail with his old dog Dan. We ate beenie weenies he warmed on the truck engine and lance crackers while listening to Jim Phillips's play-by-play of Clemson football games.
While fishing, I was taught to be extremely quiet because apparently, fish are acutely aware of the sounds and movements of 6-year-old boys. As I grew, we spent weekend days fishing and nights poling his fiberglass boat all over Murrells Inlet gigging flounder. Fiberglass is HEAVY! in case you are wondering. Who needed weightlifting?
I cherish memories of flying on Sunday afternoons in his old Piper Super cruiser though I once almost took it for a spin without him. That day, I was unceremoniously promoted from “hold the light guy” to PULL BACK ON THAT THROTTLE GUY! My short little legs could not hold the brakes hard enough when he had to hand crank the plane, then had to run alongside trying to get in.
THEN…Inexplicably, when I was around 13-14 or so, there must have been a terrible accident or something. Daddy forgot EVERYTHING. Neither he nor Mom knew anything anymore! I honestly don’t know if they would have made it without a genius teenager in the house.
But…. He was always there. He never missed getting home in time to get me to practice. He never missed a game…. ANY GAME. When our football team had an outbreak of Mono (We all shared 6 red plastic coffee mugs), he bought disposable Dixie cups and supplied Gatorade for the whole team for the remaining years of high school. No one asked him to do it, and I'm unsure if anyone outside of Coach Jones even knew he did it. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone to acknowledge it anyway.
He also never missed a Sunday. Whether at home, at Sparrow Swamp, or on beach weekends at Garden City Baptist Church, he led our family in worship.
Most of those weekends began with what I called Adventure Pancakes. I think he experimented on me to see what I would eat. Whether it was chocolate chips, pecans, bananas, or some other concoction that he threw together, there was always a hot meal to get the day going with him and me at the table. My boys relive those memories anytime we have what Darby has termed “Daddy’s big breakfast.” My family had adventure pancakes this morning before the service.
When college came around……. (we should probably skip ahead HERE since we ARE in church) but seriously, he always supported me. When he did discipline, there was never a raised voice, except for that “S word” mentioned at the beginning, and never a hand raised in anger. BUT I always say that a good talking to by Daddy would make you feel so small, you could sit on a dime and swing your legs. I never wanted to disappoint him, though I know I did on several occasions. Mom always wanted grey hair; I did my part. I’m Here to help!
While in college I had the unique opportunity to see another side of Daddy. While working at the paper mill in their summer program I got to see him with his work family. As adults, we know you can tell a lot about someone by how they treat and are treated by coworkers. I can honestly say I never met a single person that disliked him. Everyone knows that workplaces are just like an 8th-grade homeroom with gossip and the like. He was well respected, and I in turn was instantly accepted, after some minor hazing of course. I'm not talking about the fake respect that the boss’ son gets; he wasn’t the boss of anyone! Hearing “Oh, are you Bo’lanky’s boy? You must be alright then.” If you ever saw him “Mosey” across to woodyard, you would know where that nickname came from. In the two summers I worked there, I gained an even deeper respect for him from how others saw him.
He told me even though he had opportunities, he never went into management because he would be “married to the mill.” One reason he bought the trailer at the beach was that since it had no telephone, he could not be required to come in to work on a call-in. He was not about to give up time with his family. It has taken me nearly 57 years to learn that one! But I finally got it, Daddy.
After college, when I lived at the beach, there were Tuesday nights at the Indoor Range. He, and sometimes Mom, would drive down to “service” his holster customers and we would participate in the local shooting competitions. I always assumed they were coming anyway, so I would take the short drive up to Myrtle to join them. I now know, those customers were an afterthought.
On my wedding day, I was lucky enough to stand in that room behind the organ and thank him for being the best example of a husband for me to follow. I was able to tell him that if I could be half the husband he is, I would take it as a win. I was proud to have him as my best man. Going on 24 years….that lesson stuck! He loved Darby as much as I do!
When I introduced him to his grandsons, the pride in his heart overflowed. Once again, I was lucky enough to thank him for his example and I strive every day (and I fail) to live up to the high bar he set. To only be a size 8 1/2 or so, they are huge footprints to walk in. He loved you boys, and you made him BEAM with pride.
I NOW realize…… I was never “hold the light guy”
HE was!
He had been shining the light for me and everyone he touched.
Of the thousand lessons he shared through example,
he taught me how to love the Lord,
how to love ONE woman unconditionally,
how to love my family,
how to serve without recognition,
and how to work honestly with integrity and character.
When it's MY time to cross the River Jordan and see that light leading me home, I’m going to recognize the beam of that old silver D-cell flashlight…. and the man holding it.
I just hope he doesn’t have that wrench.
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Marion Langston 11/12/1934 - 01/28/2024
I thank the Lord for letting you be my Daddy.
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Originally Posted by 2thDoc
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