A Dad's Dad

I found this article by Kevin Helliker very moving and scary where did he get that picture of my parents wedding? But the similarity's don't end with the picture. He could have been writing about my Dad or Mark's Dad or any other Dad of the Greatest Generation. As a child, I was scared of him, as a teenager I baffled him (flit flit) and as an adult I admire adn respect him.

Dad intimidated not only his children, but nieces , nephews and any other child who wandered in his path. My children figured out far earlier in their lives that beneath that gruffness was someone who loved them for who they were , not for what they did (or didn't do). His gruff and loud voice would reverberate across the room until my Mom would hush him "Bob, your scaring the grandkids." I suppose we came by our exuberance naturally. We were all mystified when my sister Cindy reported overhearing a friend's Mom say "Those Etzler girls are nice, but they are so loud." Us we thought, loud? It wasn't until years later when we were at a family reunion and my son commented "Boy Mom, your family is sure emotional". Yes, I thought we are, we tend to

My Dad is Civil Engineer I graduated from college with a journalism degree. I never had a math course I liked (in fact I was able to graduate from college without taking one math course), my father lived to work with math. It was orderly and made sense. I remember sitting at the kitchen table with my math book on one side and Dad on the other. "Let's see..." he would mumble. Then we would be on the rollicking journey of logic vs. emotion. He would clearly lay out the problem and I would struggle to follow along. The story problems were the worst for me. I had trouble grasping the concepts of train A and train B. I would tend to get more wrapped up in what did Mr. Brown bring back from Chicago then the miles per hour etc. Dad was frustrated that a child of his could not grasp simple math concepts. These sessions usually ended up with him raising his voice my crying and my mom offering ice cream to settle down both of us.

Music was a language we all understood. All six kids played a musical instrument and my mom sang in the choir. Dad was a frustrated piano player, he always regretted stopping lessons when he was a child. After unsuccessfully trying to mold my younger brothers into young Bach's he took up piano lessons himself. His weekly lesson with was Mrs. Wahnwitz (sp). I think they spent more time talking about world politics, and current events then piano. Dad was diligent about practicing every day. He found playing the piano relaxing although somewhat jarring for the listener.

When he retired, he never slowed down. In 1995 he was recognized by the NE Indiana Engineering week Citizen Engineer of the year which recognized not only his professional but also his civic leadership. He continutes to volunteer at the local grade school, church and social areana. He is an inspiration to all who meet him. I have no doubt that when God calls him home he will hear "Well done, good and faithful servent."