Thursday, May 10, 2012
Moving....
This blog will be deleted and moved too... http://byrondwanehancock.wordpress.com/ Come see it there. :D
Monday, April 9, 2012
Saturday, April 7, 2012
My Grandpa, by Levi Hancock
My favorite memory of Grandpa Byron is the summer I spent with him up at the cabin and all the things that he taught me, Like how to shoot a bow and arrow, and how to live off nature. He gave one of the best skills to know in life, Survival.
Love and miss you Grandpa
Levi Hancock
My Dad, by John Alan Hancock
When I was young boy most of my memories of Dad was that he was working a great deal of the time. I loved it when Dad would spend time with me alone. One of the most cherished and valuable times that I spent with my father was when I was 9 years old. Dad had begun to teach Lee, Don, and myself some what about the auto body business. It came my turn! It seems like yesterday, but it has actually been 48 years ago when I would go to work with my father. He was teaching me how to prepare the cars and do auto body work. I remember many nights after school sanding on the cars. Then it came time for Dad to help me learn the steps to properly prime and paint the cars. I would stand directly behind my father and he would have me go through the same motions as he was actually doing and I was to practice imitating my fathers every stroke and detail. This we would do over and over again until I was able to paint my own cars.
When my Dad was passing away, I thought about this one on one teaching moment that has lasted me an entire lifetime. This experience benefited me greatly, after all I did choose to become like my father and do body work for 40 years. I realize that Byron Hancock my Dad gave me " a gift." Thank you Dad, I love you and miss you! I will see you again!
Love forever, John Alan Hancock
When I first met Byron It was in May 1996 (He had just turned 72 years of age) while helping Scott with his restoration of an old home for his photography studio in Pleasant Grove.
I married John in June 27, 1996 and went to the cabin for a Hancock family reunion that John was in charge of in July 1996. I was quite impressed with the fact that Byron and Colene had ten children. I quickly learned that Byron did not have a lot to say. He was kind, gentle and quiet. It did not take me long to realize that John was a lot like his own father. He too was kind, gentle and quiet. Without allot to say.
John has been able to do allot with his hands. Not only did he do auto body, hes also really good in construction, remodeling and repairing many, many things and there is no doubt that John was highly influenced by his father work ethics.
When I would come visit Byron and Colene it was evident to me that John
was surely Byron’s son!
Connie Hancock
My Grandpa, by Charles Christian & John Dallas Hancock
 |
| John |
 |
| Charles |
We both remember grandpa always being so collected, very warm, kind and loving. I have many memories of grandpa, not one of them is a bad one. I never saw my grandfather swear, or lose his temper. This man is the kind that all young men aspire to be like when they grow up. I thought it would be a good way to keep spirits high to summarize a few memories I have of my grandpa.
Trail Bike. Grandpa and I would go to the cabin often for a week at a time. We would bring a trail bike grandpa had lying around the shop. The bike broke down at one point and would not start. Grandpa was a great mechanic; I knew he could walk me through getting it to run. He told me to hold the spark plug in and kick it over. It was a shocking experience to say the least.
Guitar. I remember sitting upstairs in the cabin grandpa built and listening to him play the guitar. I found it so interesting at the time. I was just a little boy, but grandpa seemed to play pretty well. I started taking guitar lessons and played, “Grandpa tell me bout the good old days” at the family reunion one year. To this day I enjoy listening to that song it really makes me think about, “The good old days”.
My Grandpa is stronger than yours. Grandpa had a backhoe that he kept at the cabin. He used to ride us around in the scoop. He even let us steer it when we were just little. I remember one day for some reason grandpa had to remove the smaller scoop from the backhoe he picked the thing up and carried it into the garage. To this day I have never weighed a scoop but I’d rather just keep the memory that my grandpa is stronger than yours.
One dollar. I would hang around grandpa’s shop all the time growing up. I must have been about five years old when I thought I could use some extra cash. I approached grandpa to ask him what I could do. He said I could clean the side of the shop for ten dollars an hour. The side of the shop looked like a forest that had multiple plain wrecks in it at this point. I remember cleaning for what seemed to be forever. I went to grab grandpa to show him what I had accomplished. Grandpa did a little math in his head and came to the conclusion that I earned one dollar. I remember thinking I got the short end of the stick. But I’m pretty sure grandpa did the math right. Besides what I learned around the shop was worth far more than that one dollar.
Charles Christian & John Dallas Hancock
07/31/10
My Dad, by Scott Dwane Hancock
It seemed to me that there wasn't anything that my dad couldn't do. I remember that when we were building the garage next to our home; my dad straddling the high cinderblock wall of the garage, while guiding one of the wooden beams in place as they were lowered by crane. I thought he was Superman, being able to be up there and not fall off.
I remember when I was really little, he convinced me that he could fly, but that he was just too tired right then when I asked him to show me. He also told me that he had his cape underneath his shirt, and I was not to tell anyone about his secret. I was mad that I couldn't tell anybody . . . until today!
One of the greatest times I will always remember was when our entire family spent a lot of time together building the cabin. I think it's one of the best things that has ever happened in bringing our family together. We all had a part, and my children really enjoyed going up there.
It was really a sad day for me when dad decided to sell the place, because his health just wouldn't let him get up there to take care of it anymore. We all have hundreds of photos and video clips, and if we were to bring them all together from every son, daughter, grandchild, relative and friend, you would have a stack of photo albums as tall as this pulpit!
I've always felt that my dad was the calm before the storms. Any time that he had a problem with upset clients, from even the littlest things, he remained very calm and handled it well. I had always admired him for that characteristic, and in many cases I see those characteristics in my brothers . . . and occasionally my sisters. :D
During my career as a photographer, I bought an old historic home in Pleasant Grove, it was one of the city's oldest homes in the area. It was my intent to turn it into a portrait studio. For eight months my dad would come down every day that he could to help me. He also brought his back-hoe down for me to use. On one occasion, He would lift me up in the bucket to reach the high front edge of my studio's roof in order to shingle it. Most days he would just look for what needed to be done and would do it until it was time to go home, I remember this was when he decided it was time to quit driving because of his eyesight. I think this was a really hard time for him, even though he didn't show it.
I learned a lot from my dad over the years and have been able to construct, build, figure out, put together, anything I put my mind too. I can vouch for my brothers that they are able to do the same thing.
Thoughts of my dad: He avoided the foul language. The one saying he did use was, “that dirty bugger” and “knuckle head.”
He loved his newspaper; relaxed and disappeared behind it.
He would let an in-experienced son work on cars and rebuild motors. I would have not let my kids do that.
He had the coolest oil can! I could shoot it up to 50 feet! . . . until he caught me.
He built a swing set and a very dangerous teeter-totter that we still have. Good times!
I remember him becoming a dealer for snowmobiles, which didn’t work out too well, but it was great for us kids!
Whenever we’d see each other, he would always ask us, “So, how is work?” or “how is business?” or “Do you got any work?” Many have said that he always had a smile on his face!
He once told me that he is really in charge, but he let mom think she is. Funny, mom told me the same thing!
He kept things in life simple, never complicated.
He ordained me to the office of elder, and recently to high priest. Even with his Alzheimer’s, he still had the authority. I was also able to work in the temple recently with him.
________________________________________________________
I e-mailed my son, Michael, who’s currently serving a mission in Uruguay, and was recently transferred to a new area. I told him about Grandpa's passing, and I shared with him the same thoughts I shared with you today. This is what he wrote back to me, and I quote:
Sounds like it was his time to go... I´ll miss him, but I´m glad he got transferred... that´s all it is, a transfer, he´s gonna receive another calling, he´s needed to do work on the other side and he´s still gonna be helping out from that side more than he could have been doing here... (DC 42:46) I wish I could have known him better.. but you know, I´ll get that chance.
I hope it´s a wake-up call to everyone else... This is the preparatory state, when you leave, will you be able to look up at God, or hide in shame?... Grandpa´s gonna look up and say "Hay un lugar preparado en las mansiones de mi Padre" (I oon loogar prep-arado en las man-see-own-ace day me Podray) (Enos 1:27) Which means: There is a place prepared in the mansions of my Father.
I hope it´s a wake-up call to everyone else... This is the preparatory state, when you leave, will you be able to look up at God, or hide in shame?... Grandpa´s gonna look up and say "Hay un lugar preparado en las mansiones de mi Padre" (I oon loogar prep-arado en las man-see-own-ace day me Podray) (Enos 1:27) Which means: There is a place prepared in the mansions of my Father.
He goes on to say:
It´s something that everyone has a hard time dealing with, I´ve noticed with all the people we teach, that this life is only a small small piece of the picture, that the choices we make here, the things we do here are going to effect the eternity that follows. So many people think, “this is it,” and “it´s hard,” cause this world is all we really know, learning to walk by faith and not sight is something that´s difficult, especially for those who have never tried it.
He also said:
We´re teaching a lady named Daisy, her brother just died about a month ago and every lesson there´s some tears of sorrow at one point or another. She likes what we teach... but it´s just hard for her to accept it and apply it. This is where we have to rely on the Spirit. It´s just hard to watch people suffer when they don´t have to. There´s sort of a lazy "wo is me!" attitude here and it´s hard to break people out of it. But I´ve felt the Spirit, and I know they have too, now they just need to make a choice. Are they going to overcome their problems, their addictions, their complaining and get to work... or are they going to be servants to sin all their life.... That´s probably the hardest thing in the mission... is having to drop those that just can´t do it yet... Knowing that God watches his children and weeps... But also knowing that he rejoices with those who choose to follow. It is comforting that there are so many good souls in this world and everyone will have the chance to accept this Gospel and have everlasting joy!
End of quote. ________________________________________________________
Even though Christ conquered physical death, all people must die, for death is part of
the process by which we are transformed from mortality to immortality. When the physical body dies, the spirit continues to live and goes to the spirit world.
Death does not change our personality or our desires for good or evil. In the spirit world, the spirits of the righteous, who have been baptized and who have remained faithful, "are received into a state of happiness, which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, where they shall rest from all their troubles and from all care, and sorrow" (Alma 40:12)
Those who chose not to obey in this life and did not repent, live in a state of unhappiness.
In the spirit world, the gospel of Jesus Christ is preached to those who did not obey the gospel or have the opportunity to hear it while on earth, and if they repent of their sins and receive the ordinances of baptism and confirmation through the work we do in temples, (see D&C 138:30–35) they will have that happiness while they remain in the spirit world until they are resurrected.
In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen
------------------------------------
Thoughts of Byron Hancock from Scott Hancock
TRUSTING (too early): my dad always seemed to trust me jobs that seemed a little bit above my capability. For instance he would have me sand cars for his clients. I was probably around the age of eight. He must’ve been losing it.
MOWING THE LAWN: I guess he figured if I can send a car I could definitely mow the lawn at about the same age or younger. I remember mowing the lawns for ever. I personally just gave into my 10-year-old son to let him mow the lawn, what was I thinking.
I guess because of this I have not been too afraid of work. Ha ha
DISCIPLINE: One of the most memorable beatings I ever had where he only touched me once, was when I ran out the back door and he started chasing me. I jumped off the step by the small garage and just as I leaped forward. he caught me with the toe of his boot. Needless to say, the two combined motions projected me forward a lot further than I intended- I caught a lot of air.
CUSSING: I remember one time when there was a young teenage client that came to get his car and for some reason been was a going to pay amount of money that was owed on the car. The client started screaming and swearing his head off in front of me it and my my dad. Dad grabbed him by the map of the neck and as he threw him out the front door he held back saying no one swears in front of my kids like that as he he landed in the snow and slid under a car parked in front. You go dad!!!
CABIN: Probably one of most memorable times in my life was when we all helped build the cabin, together. Many of my brothers and sisters each got to go up sometimes one-on-one with dad and I’m sure they can say the same thing. I enjoy the times just sitting and talking about everything and anything. I have converted hours and hours of VHS tape over to DVD of us building the cabin it’s amazing how many things you forget overtime. We held several family reunions at the cabin. It was quiet a sad day when Mom and Dad decided to sell it.
PHOTO STUDIO: Another big memory was when Dad came down to help me build on my studio. I guess that was the period of time where he finally slow way down. I guess I wore him out! Anyway we spent a lot of time talking about a lot of different things. A lot of things I never knew about Dad. I wish I would have videotaped a lot of those conversations while we where there but I was too busy to hold the camera.
WATER SLIDE: I remember several times when I was really young like 5-6 or 7, Dad would give us a bunch of that real thick heavy plastic that we could water slide on out on the front or back lawn, I think there were a few times he didn’t know that we borrowed the plastic without telling him.
BODY SHOP: I’m grateful that he wasn’t afraid to work, man you got to work when you got 10 kids! I was always grateful for the body shop because we all had a place to build, repair or play with something.
SUNDAY’S: One other thing I remember when I was really young, we always went out on a Sunday drive and heaven forbid we bought a bucket of Kentucky fried chicken and had a picnic and we’d also visited Grandma Hancock. And if we still had time would run over to Uncle Ray’s and slide down his big slide.
Thoughts from my family
From Laurie: Byron is one of the most accepting people I know. From the very first time I met him, and married into the family, he has treated me very warmly and with respect. He has always made me feel like one of the family. I have never heard him say a harsh word to anyone, nor have I heard him gossip or speak ill of anyone. He is also very generous. He let us use his tough shed and cabin anytime we wanted. I remember the hours he spent helping Scott build his Studio in Pleasant Grove. Another thing I especially at admire about Byron is that he always has time to spend with his grandchildren.
From Andra: Every time we go to visit Grandpa, he is very happy to see us. He always seems to be interested in what I am doing; schoolwork, hobbies, dancing, etc. I especially remember all the family reunions we had at his cabin.
From Ariel: Whenever we would go to visit, Grandpa always tells my sisters and I how amazing and beautiful we are. Whenever he’s around we get showered with compliments. And he’s always happy to see us, his grandchildren when we come to visit.
From Michael: This is a hard subject to think about because there are so many things he has done for all of us, and I can’t think of one thing to say, but the main thing would probably be the time we spent at the cabin. I remember one time, I’m not sure which year it was, but I remember Grandpa giving me a ride in his tractor at night, just me and him, and he let me have some candy and I just had fun. On top of that he just is a fun guy to hang out with, he has great stories and he is always, always happy and glad to see us.J
From Daniel: The thing I remember best is the family reunions we had at grandpas cabin, he is fun to talk to and has some thing for us to do.
From April: I like the way you hug me, how you come to our house because you don’t come very often and when we come over.
From Alana: I like how you make silly faces.
Scott Dwane Hancock
My Dad, by Lee K. Hancock
I remember when I was about eight years of age, I wanted to go-cart really bad. Dad told me I had to save up some money. So I started saving up a lot of money, maybe almost a whole two dollars. So dad got me the motor and I remember carrying it into or out of the old Blue Bell store (it was all I could do to carry it).
When I was about 11 years old I remember dad finally getting us the go-cart. It was kind of a throw together go-cart. It had a really tall, close together set of tires in the back and really wide set, small tires in the front. I remember we had to pull a string over our shoulder for the gas to keep it going. I remember waiting a really long time (probably not quite a week) to finally get a centrifugal force clutch to get it going. It was pretty neat. We have an 8mm movie of it.
I remember when my dad made the neatest burglar alarm you can ever imagine. He would take a regular piece of string and tie it to the door of the office, and with a little paper clip tied to the other end, he would dial the phone and leave it at the last number to the house and put the paper clip in to block it. When someone would walk through the door it would pull that paperclip off and let the phone finish dialing the home number. When dad would get on the phone and say hello and nobody answered, he knew exactly what had happened and he'd hop in the truck and head down to the shop. I think it was a 55 Chevy truck. On one occasion, when he walked through the place and couldn't find anybody there, he decided to go in and hang up some coveralls. The door didn't quite open up like it normally would, and so dad swung the door closed and saw this face looking right at him. It was this kid, standing up on his toes so he could stay way back from the door and not be noticed. But this made the kid appear taller, so dad started being the tar out of him until he realized it was a kid and stopped and called the cops.
There was another time when he ran down there because someone had tripped the burglar alarm. He took his rifle, which had only one bullet in it, and started chasing the guy with his rifle. He lined the bead on the sites of the rifle at him but he just couldn't bring himself to shoot him and so he just lifted it up over his head and shot. But it just made the guy run faster and he got away. But the cops did find him later on.
There was one time when a guy busted out one of the back windows. He climbed through it and when he let himself down on the inside of the building, he stepped into a bucket of oil. And so we knew everywhere he walked with the oil footprint. Good times...
I remember one time when I was about 11 years old, my dad was breaking down a split rim wheel and tire. While he had hold of a pry bar stuck between the tire and the rim, he asked me to hit it right beside it with the big rubber tipped hammer. I didn't want to do it, it was too close to him and I was afraid I'd miss. But he kept insisting that I hit it and I kept telling him “No”! Finally, I did what he asked. I stepped forward and smacked it down as hard as I could and it ricocheting smacking him right in the forehead. I watched his eyes roll back into his head as he passed out. It broke the skin and he was bleeding. I thought I killed my dad! This is probably why he couldn't remember much.
Once while Don was helping dad build the cabin for several days, She Lee and I came out to help. When we got there, Don came running out saying “Have you got anything besides beans? That's all dad has up here is beans! We've had beans morning, noon and night!” Dad loved beans.
We built a little stainless steel water tank tower, up by the little cabin. You could stand under it and have a running hot water shower. But there was no curtain around it. When all the men left and went down to Fruitland to pick up some things at the grocery store, She Lee decided to take a shower. When we got back, dad noticed that her hair was wet and asked her what she did. She told him that she'd taken a shower and couldn't have one with all the men there. The next thing we saw was dad had built a shower curtain around it.
I remember when I was little; Mom, Don and I took dad to the airport. I think Mom was pregnant with John. Dad went to New York to receive an award that he earned in the Salt Lake community college. We walked onto the tarmac and stood behind a chain-link fence to watch dad walked to the airplane and up the steps. We waved goodbye and then the prop jet airplane started up, it was loud! It started to taxi and turned. It about blew us away! Of course we were little kids then but to us that was the coolest, biggest blast of wind we'd ever felt.
Dad was also a barber. Way back before he knew Mom. When he was still living in Blue Bell, he learned on his own how to cut hair. For as long as I can remember growing up, dad has always cut my hair and all my Brothers too.
Lee K. Hancock
My Dad, by Don T. Hancock
Later we moved to Granger and built a house on an underground home built by Max Petersen. I was so impressed with Dad doing such a variety of things to build the home we lived in. Don’t remember much about Uncle Roy or Uncle Parley helping, but I’ve learned they did. Then Dad came home with movies of going to New York for being a good layout man for Structural Steel Inc. I wanted to know as much as Dad. I would sit and look at encyclopedias about buildings and machinery and was always impressed to know what Dad did. I even held his steel sizing books that you could order stock size steel from, powerful information in those books.
Dad bought a wrecked Fiat that had rolled and was going to fix it. I remember working with Dad to fix the car and I got to pump the port-a-power pump as much as I could. I loved to watch the steel bend back out to make its original shape. One Saturday we were working on the Fiat when the oxygen and acetylene hose accidentally got burned and the little garage filled with dark smoke and I thought Dad was gone! Dad said to “Get out!” and I did. Standing outside there was nothing to see but billowing black clouds in the garage. I stood there waiting and he wasn’t coming out any too fast. I was building courage and trying to think where I would even look for him. Then it happened, Dad came out with that Byron Grin on that showed he wasn’t doing something right. He had got to the tanks and shut them off for the hoses were burning like a fuse to blow the tanks up. Well the world of Dad was still together.
Then one day Dad was talking to Grandpa Presley and I over-heard something about a gas station and tall bays. I asked, “What‘s a bay?” “I’ll show you some day.” Well, it happened. He took us down to see a great big white building, huge to me at that time, and when the doors went up, they kept going for ever. The best part was they hung in the ceiling out of everyone’s way. Then out front was the great big sign that was red, white and blue and said UTOCO. I loved pumping the gas and talking to all the different farmers and people that came from out of state. Dad would always get a frosted Pepsi and talk with the customers with his leg flung onto the counter by the red cash box and in front of the pay phone on the wall behind him. Ya, he was the Boss.
He would always teach us things, and new skills and knowledge was always great the first time. When Dad figured we had become skilled enough to work on our own, work became slave labor. I’m not even going to attempt to remember how many times he said, “Get back in here!” Then one day, he said I could be paid for what I did that was good.
As time went along as time does, the business grew and Dad wanted to have his own shop and not pay rent. So the big field that “lived” by us as a playground grew a building and that became Byron’s Body and Paint. In building this, I revered my Dad as a contractor, electrician, plumber, roofer, mason and cement man. He was amazing and, like any little boy, I had to know these things like Dad did. Now this comes to the part that reflects our Heavenly Father. Nothing is more gratifying to a father than when his son or daughter excels and has learned what he has. And like our Savior Jesus Christ becoming one with our Father in Heaven. May we do all we can to become like our Heavenly Father, for this is our purpose here.
Don T. Hancock
My Dad, by Presley Dale Hancock
One of my memories of dad that always brings warm fuzzy feeling to me and I don't know why it just's. When I was little dad would always put me in the top and while I was bathing he would always be at the scene shaving. I would always watch and say to myself that I wanted to grow up and be like him. Right now I'm not sure if I have lived with all that he did but I hope so.
Dad taught me to weld. It started with arc welding. I was in grade school. So in writing this talk I have realized this was a way to babysit me while my mom worked at the Cannery. I would weld on Jack Condie's farm equipment. I don't know of dad went over my welds but when Jack would come back something different was broke so they must have held. Next came oxygen/excetaling weld, keeping in mind I'm still in grade school. Dad would raise a customer's car up the boys only high enough for me to look up and weld on exhaust pipes. So I would weld, dad would come back and have to bend over and walk under the car to check my welds. He would make fun of me as he could not stand up. He would start the car and listen for the exhaust leak, put his finger over it so I could hear and see the league so that I could finish welding.
I've been helping build a days of 47 Parade float. I called Janet to tell her about it and what should I do,... ...[come over and see dad] or work on it. We decided work on it. Dad passed away while I was welding doing what he had taught me. Everything I weld from now on I will be thinking of him. It would have been [neat] if Dad could have seen the float finished.
Dad was suffering from Alzheimer's and I refused to believe it. I seem to come and go as to what he remembered, I think I have Alzheimer's to a few years ago I was at dad's house visiting and we were just at the kitchen table talking almost for an hour. You're the one who does upholstery and then the whole conversation started over, "how does your business?" Or "you got work." "You keeping busy."
Dad came and stayed with me a little while ago for two days and night. The first day we were in the garage working on a custom bike seat. After we had dinner and watch TV. I put dad to bed. I was worried that if he woke up and wandered around the house that with the Alzheimer's and in a different place, would be scary. So at about 4:30 a.m. I heard that up walking. I went out and found him, I don't know how long he was up for, but I asked him "where are you going?" And he said "oh just going for a walk." I took him back to bed, he didn't want me to leave him so I stayed with him for a while. He told me I should get out to the garage and get the bike seat done. That surprised me to know that he remembered what we were doing the day before. I still just stayed with him and told him I was waiting for day light. He laugh. He told me that night that he loved me. Dad was a man with no words, his action and his kindness towards me always told me that he loved me. I'm guessing dad knew this was coming and was getting ready to take his next big walk.
Back to sitting in the tub and wanting to be like him, I try to let my kindness tell my kids that I love them. I want to change that and tell them that I do so all shock my kids. I'm working on.
My dad was very nice man and I remember people who would stop by and visit just because they like him.
I feel blessed to have gone to the College of Byron's body shop. I learned so many things there but of course I hated it then. I would always sneak away and dad would come and get me and put me back to work. What I learned from him I would never trade and I will use it the rest of my life. I am going to miss my dad so much. Love you dad
Presley Dale Hancock
I thought of you with love today
But that is nothing new.
I thought about you yesterday and days before that too.
I think of you in silence,
I often speak your name.
All I have are memories and your picture in a frame.
Your memory is my keepsake with which I’ll never part.
God has you in his keeping I have you in my heart.
Makayla Colene Hancock
My Dad, by Teri Hancock
My daughter and I had a close and loving relationship with my dad. We were blessed to have the opportunity to care for my parents since they cared for Makayla and I for several years.
My daughter spent every day w/her grandpa. The relationship between my daughter and my father was made in heaven. They spent a lot of time with each other. They would always talk to about school, work, friends, how her day went in general. He started going to the Neighborhood House so she would get up in the morning and help him get breakfast, give him his pills, grab his coat and cane, and tell him goodbye every day he left on the bus. This when my dad was in the advance stages of alzheimers and he always thought he was going to work. He would mention that they didn’t pay him much but they fed him lunch. They enjoyed each other’s company, talking to each other from morning until long after bedtime.
We all wanted a little something to remember him by. My daughter chose his eye glasses because she would put them on and make dad laugh. I remember them holding hands while she tried to navigate walking in his big cowboy boots.
I am blessed for the time we spent with him and help take care of him through his illness. I feel he is at peace and watching over us and if they need an auto body man in heaven he the man.
Teri Hancock
My Dad, by David Wayne Hancock
David Wayne Hancock
My Dad, by Dennis Hancock
Dad was the most pleasant man to be around he was the one who did most of the work, was friendly, honest, caring and the list goes on.
When it comes to discipline, he excelled in that, until I got older and learned that it was better to just stay trouble.
Dad was real good with the jokes too. By You always get me to hold the spark plug to see if it was working. He always got a kick out of watching you get a jolt. I don't know why but it took me five or six times before I learned not to hold the spark plug. In my mind I knew something that was going to happen, but because Dad asked me or told me, I still held on that spark plug. I think I just wanted to see him laugh, that was a good memory, not the spark plug but seeing my dad laugh!
Another good memory I have is when dad sold me a car for a quarter, when I was about six or seven years old. I could never get it to start but I learned I could make it move if I turn the key while it was in gear. One day while I was sitting in the car listening to the radio, I saw my dad out behind the body shop dancing... funniest thing I ever saw. He would skip and jump to the side real high-end and jump to the other. I don't think he knew I was watching but I laugh so hard. I thought I would embarrass him in front of everybody by telling them what I saw, but he beat me to it by telling them about a snake that was trying to get him and everywhere he jumped a snake would jump. I never could outsmart my dad except once. Since I couldn't drive the car I sold it for $50 bucks. I don't think my dad meant for me to sell it. I think he just wanted me to learn how to repair it. I didn't worry too much about it because he had a lot of other cars and things for me to learn on.
I owe my Dad for all that he taught me; in fact, still to this day I'm doing what he taught me.. repairing cars.
One thing I'm very grateful for was Dad taking me on his travels. Like when I went to Yellowstone, Dad and I stayed in the cabin by Hebgen Lake. We had a good time there, I will never forget. There was a lot of other places he took us like Alaska, Zion's, Arches national Park, there were so many places as I can think of them all.
I also enjoy all the times we spent together up at the cabin that we all help build on top of Current Creek Mountain. Those were good times.
When I was young, I sometimes thought us kids went without most of the time, and now that I'm older I realized we had more than most. I haven't done half the things for my kids that my dad did for us. Something I need work on. So dad, thank you for all the great memories and just know that I love you and I can't wait see you again.
Dennis Hancock
My Dad, by Janet Eubanks
Dad built and owned Byron’s Auto Body and Paint and ran his own business for over 40 years. He worked as a mechanic, painter and body man. The skills he knew, he taught to his children – and for a quarter or sometimes a dollar, he would have us kids masking, painting or repairing cars. The things that dad taught us helped us throughout our adult lives. He was a great teacher.
He was a builder. Dad retired at age 66 and built a cabin on the south side of the hill near Current Creek. He planned to enjoy his retirement there. He bought a prebuilt-cabin that the company was preparing to tear it down. Dad offered to remove it if he could buy it from them. They agreed and gave him a good deal. Before he dismantled it, he numbered each log so he knew exactly where it should go then reconstructed it on his property. During construction and after it was built, the family spent a lot of time there. Sometimes dad entertained us by playing the guitar. He would sing and yodel crazy cowboy songs. Sometimes the kids tried to yodel with him but he usually ended up laughing so hard he couldn’t sing anymore. We had a lot of memorable family gatherings at the cabin but when dad’s health began to fail he had to sell it. Nonetheless, with the help of his wife and kids, dad reached his lifelong dream.
I considered my Dad an avid explorer. He loved to see new places and be outdoors. Occasionally, he would pile all of us kids in the back of the camper or motor home and start driving. I never knew if he had a destination in mind but he would eventually find a nice scenic place to stop and play. Most of us had fond memories of our trips but some turned into learning experiences. On one trip to Yellowstone, the family stopped for a short break at the Visitor Center. Soon everyone was back in the motor home and headed down the road. Before Dad reached Jackson Hole, a Sheriff pulled him over and asked if he was missing any kids? Dad said, “I don’t think so,” and then after looking around the motor home, asked where Aaron was? They realized too late that they left Aaron in the visitor center, so a Park Ranger shuttled Aaron to catch up with the rest of the family. This was not only a good lesson for Aaron but for all of us kids. If dad said get in the car, we all knew what would happen if we didn’t mind.
Some of dad’s outings resulted in some good Bear stories; some real, some not. One story involved a close call with a bear up at dad’s cabin. Dad was taking a break from working when he noticed a bear about 20 feet from his cabin. I guess he was startled, because he told me he asked the bear, “What are you doing here?” He said the bear looked up and started to mosey over toward him so dad decided to make his way back to the cabin. The bear moved closer until he had his nose almost in the crack of the door where dad was peeking through. I guess dad stopped talking to the bear and slammed and locked the door. I have no idea when he left that cabin.
Another close encounter was when dad was 5 years old. He was herding sheep with his father on Bald Mountain and decided to head back to camp. It became too dark so he let the horse have the reins. All of a sudden, the horse shied so hard that dad almost fell off. Up in front of him was a huge black bear standing on its hind legs. Both he and the horse were shivering from fright. After a few minutes, he figured he had no choice but to keep following the trail to camp, so he and the horse moved bit by bit to go around the huge bear. The bear didn’t move or growl so he braved to go a little closer. Just then the moon came out from behind the clouds and revealed -- not a bear -- but a huge burnt tree stump. We were so happy that dad lived to tell the story.
My Dad was a teacher, business man, an avid explorer, a priesthood holder, grandfather and a wonderful husband. My dad was courageous, warm and funny. He loved people and babies. He could calm crying babies when no one else could. He never swore, was composed under pressure and only pretended to be mad at us kids when we did something wrong. He was respected by many. He was always there for us and he will truly be missed.
In closing I would like to share that Fathers hold their children's hands for just a little while... And their hearts forever.
Thank you. Janet (Hancock) Eubanks
Thank you. Janet (Hancock) Eubanks
Janet Also Writes:
It was dad’s 86th birthday on May 8th 2010. I had toe surgery on the 7th and my doctor told me I could not fly for fear of a blood clot. So I was not able to go to dad’s birthday party. All the other siblings were there; even Dave. I was the only one who didn’t go. I missed the last party too. Dave sent me a picture from his cell phone of dad in front of his birthday cake but looking tired and confused. I called dad early in the morning and wished him a happy birthday, sang him a Happy Birthday Song and told him I loved him. He grunted a few times but didn’t say any words. Mom said she just woke him up so I thought maybe he was still groggy, but she said that’s the way he has been for the last few days. She said he was having little strokes.
Dad was going to the neighborhood house to be around others. He exercised, played games, sang and other things to keep his mind and body active. One day he was riding the bus home and he had a hallucination. He thought he saw a little boy burning and was screaming to put the fire out and trying to help him. They took him to the hospital and the doctors told mom that he was low on potassium and that he had pneumonia. After things got too rough for mom to handle on a daily basis, she put him in a rest home. He was in a rest home for a month or more. Medicare wouldn’t pay for the original 90 days so mom had to take him back home. It’s too much work for her to take care of a grown man. She is too small to lift him or dress him. Aaron has been helping out a lot. It must be his calling. I understand that Dennis and Dale helped a few evenings getting him dressed and cleaned up or letting him stay over at their house. Scott and everyone helped out at one time or other and more times than not. Dad was lucky to have so many kids to help mom look over him.
Everyone was telling me that dad wouldn’t make it through the week. He can’t sit up alone; go to the restroom or talk. I don’t know if he understands what’s going on. Mom said that the pills he has been on no longer works and so she took him off of them. He just had a biopsy on his tumor under his jaw line. Mom wasn’t going to give him antibiotics because she didn’t think it would be worth it because she believes dad won’t live long enough. The next day she did get the antibiotics and began feeding them to dad but he wasn’t able to swallow pills. I think she got drops and she did say the tumor was going down.
So here I am sitting here with my foot up waiting for dad to die so I can attend his funeral. It doesn’t seem right. I don’t know what to do….
It’s hard for me to comprehend that he will pass away soon. When he was in Alaska, I thought it was going to be his last days on earth because he was so sick but he lasted 26 more years. The only reason I moved back to the States was because I wanted to be sure I was able to go visit dad because I didn’t know how long he would be around. Maybe he will last a little bit longer. I know that’s wishful thinking but who knows with dad, he fooled me once.
I asked mom if I should come see dad? She didn’t think I should - not unless you can make two trips close together.
It’s all a blur but the next day and even the evening before my sister Teri, my niece Makayla, and my brothers Dale, Dennis and Scott told me that dad was waiting to see me. Teri made a one way ticket reservation to fly me out the next morning. I arrived in Utah the next day before noon. Two and a half days after his birthday. When I first saw dad, he was lying looking at the ceiling in his bed breathing very hard but wasn’t moving. He was stiff as a board when I talked to him his eyes moved a little and he tried to voice something but it was a weak grunt. He tried twice and then gave up. So, I did the talking. Everyone that was in the room left me with him but he stopped breathing. I was prepared to do CPR. I called mom and Scott to come back because dad wasn’t breathing but they didn’t hear me, so I shake dad and watch his pulse, ready to start CPR. Mom walked back in and dad started breathing again. He stopped breathing for about one minute. When he started breathing again it was labored and appeared to take all his strength. I didn’t know what was going on. He was stiff and when I went to hug him mom said to be careful because of his bruise. I gave him a hug and he seemed to know it was me because his eyes were trying to look at me and he made some little noises, the most he had done since I was there.
Dad couldn’t talk so I don’t know if he was in pain or not. Mom told me he had a massive heart attack just before I got there. I had so many feelings and thoughts. I kept wondering how my mom had watched her husband change and how she just kept trying to take care of him by taking him to the doctors, feeding him his pills and pain killers, standing by him when he became frustrated and sometimes abusive. Dad never raised a hand to us kids but mom would say he would be delirious at times and hit her or if she tried to grab him he would fight her off. It was somewhat scary to think since he was so much bigger than her. Yet there I was looking at a shell of my father. His weight dropped so much and he hadn’t eaten for two weeks. He looked like a holocaust victim.
For two days I watched dad and listened to his rasping breathing, death rattle, and it was sad and scary. I tried to sit him up so his breathing would be better. I had Dennis help me pick him up while I put pillows under his head. It might have been a little better but I don’t know. I thought it would help his rattle, the mucus in his throat or lungs.
Scott was there when I came but he had to leave. Everyone kept coming over but couldn’t stay because of work or family.
Dad died at 8:35 p.m. on May 13, 2010 while lying in his bed. John, Dennis and I were sitting by his bed talking and waiting. I noticed the breathing had changed and I knew his time was close. His breathing wasn’t as labored, it was quieter. John was on mom’s bed and Dennis was on the other side by the bookshelves. I was standing at his feet. He would quit breathing between every five breaths. He seemed like he was giving up because he was so tired. I thought I should call Lee he was the only one that had been there since I got there. I knew dad would not make it through the night and thought I would let Lee know it would be the last time. He didn’t want to. He saw dad earlier and wanted to remember dad that way.
While talking to Lee, Dad made a loud growling sound-I believe he was fighting for his last breath. I didn’t know if he was inhaling or exhaling but it scared all of us. We were shocked and then we started laughing because we were surprised. Dennis was leaning over him listening to him breath when he growled. Maybe dad was doing it on purpose….
No, I don’t know why but it wasn’t long until he stopped breathing. He probably took a few normal breaths then stopped breathing again. The second time he gave in and quit breathing. I shook his leg when he went longer than 40 seconds, then I started calling dad but he didn’t take another breath-he wasn’t going to breathe again.
Dennis was talking to Dave and texting Scott that he was gone. I told Lee that he quit breathing. I told him I would call him back. Dennis was watching his pulse. I reached up and felt warm air coming out of his body but it wasn’t a breath. It was like his spirit was leaving him. Dennis watched and told us when his pulse was gone. He was too fragile to do CPR and I didn’t think he would be too happy having to live in that condition. He wasn’t my dad, he was a shell.
Before dad passed, Dennis told him that he loved him and not to worry about us and go with the others. John told him it was okay to leave and see his relatives. Earlier, I laid down by dad and told him that when he goes to heaven and he sees grandma and grandpa that he should give me a call and tell me what it’s like. I told him to borrow somebody’s phone, but then I thought he wouldn’t do that because he doesn’t like to use the cell phone. Oh well, it was worth a try.
I called mom up and told her that she needed to come home. She was taking some books back to a lady after she helped Maddy with her WWII homework. She was home within minutes. She walked in and touched his head and then put her head against his. Mom didn’t cry. I think she was so overwhelmed with what she had been through. She also knew that he was with his friends and relatives in heaven and knows that she would be with him again.
Everyone showed up shortly after. The nurse, Sarah, and Rudy the caregiver said that we have 24 hours before the coroner comes to take him away so we said an hour would be long enough. After Rudy the caregiver bathed and dressed dad, they came and wrapped him up in his blanket, carried him to the front room and laid him on a gurney. From there they took him to a van. John, Dennis, Scott and Aaron helped the coroner lift him from his bed.
Mom wanted me to sleep with her in dad’s bed and I just couldn’t do it. She begged me every night. I think she may have been lonely or something but I couldn’t do it. I would lay there during the day but not at night. I hope mom wasn’t too upset with me. It seemed like I should have been there for her but if I had I would not have been able to sleep. Not that I got much sleep anyway. I was preparing for a funeral. Getting everyone organized and seeing if they wanted to speak at the funeral. Every sibling did except Lee.
It took Scott and I a lot of hours to prepare the program. He did the inside and outside covers. He did Byronism’s on the back...things that we kids remembered dad saying. I did the content or agenda and I had a lot of help from people, like Bob Timothy, his wife and Joan, his aunt – I think. They helped with the obituary that I wrote and gave me ideas for the program. Dorothy brought food every day. We met cousins I never met before. It all worked out. I didn’t cry until I got up in front of everyone at the service, then I cried like I never cried before.
After the service, my 8 brothers carried dad’s casket to the grave site. Dad must have been very proud to have 8 boys to carry him.
I learned a lot about dying in the short time I was with dad. How a person breathes, death rattle, molting, blue fingernails and toenails, how one holds their breath but I don’t know if that happens with everyone. Dad lost so much weight. It was very hard for me but what can you do.
Janet’s short stories remembered about dad:
When I was young, I remember dad was always up before me. Sometimes he would make mush or pancakes. He would always say, eat-it’s good for you - it’ll stick to your ribs.
This year I will be 50 years old. I remember when dad turned 50. I found him sitting in the middle of the kitchen with all the kids standing around. I wished him a happy birthday but he just looked at the floor. I asked what was wrong with him. I don’t remember his response but I could tell he was depressed about being 50. He said he was half a century old. A year or two later, his mother died on his birthday. He made it to 86 and five days later he died. However, he had a lot of good birthdays.
When I started college, I got really tired of walking to the bus in the snow to get to school. The second year I begged dad for a car. He gave me a red Chevy super sport. I was grateful to be able to drive to school; however, it was more trouble than it was worth. You would think that if my dad was a mechanic, he would give his daughter a safe ride, but instead, I had to start the engine with a screw driver. Before and after school, I would have to pop the hood and connect the alternator and starter with the screw driver, which started the engine. Dad would also make me grease my own car. He would put it up on the car hoist and give me an oil gun. I was squeezing this thick grease in places under my car, hoping it was right. Dad would check and not say anything so I figured it was. My steering wheel fell off while I was getting on the freeway ramp. Fortunately I was able to cross the freeway and go into a gas station. Here I was holding a steering wheel and no control over a car. It was held on with one big nut so I screwed it back on and headed home. One good thing about a Chevy is that when I ran into the Volkswagen parked in the school parking lot it didn’t leave a dent on my fender but crushed the bug like aluminum foil. I learned to change tires on that car and drive in snow. I guess there is a silver lining to this story. Actually, the guys loved my car, they were mostly Mexican though. J
BLUEBELL
I remember talking to dad about going to Bluebell to see where he grew up. He always said that would be good idea but we never had time. Every time I went to Utah to visit my family, my days were so packed that we were never able to take a few days to go. On May 19, 2010, after dad passed away and before he was buried we decided we would take a trip to Bluebell. Cheri, Dale’s girlfriend, mom, Makayla and I drove to Bluebell. Thanks to Cheri for her spontaneity, we just did it. It probably hasn’t changed much. There were lots of fields and a few houses and one park. There was one store on the corner. Of course it was called the Bluebell Store. We met dad’s sister - Ruby’s daughter. Coleen Robert Miles and she invited us to her house where nothing but green fields and pastures surrounded the house. She fixed us lunch, pizza, and then took us to meet her daughter and granddaughter who had a new foal, chickens, ducks, goats, dogs and kittens. Then she took us to where dad went to elementary school. The building had been torn down for years. Across and down the road from where the school was where dad and his parents lived but their house was gone. I believe his grandparent’s house was still standing nearby but it had new siding according to Coleen. We went to the Bluebell graveyard and Coleen showed us her family and relatives; such as the Goodrich’s and the Hancock’s. Mom made our trip to Bluebell exciting with a few close calls. I saw a road sign with Bluebell on it and I wanted a picture so I asked mom to stop. She had passed it so she turned around on a double yellow on a curve and while she was straddling the double yellow she paused a little longer than most and looked out over the fields and said, “Isn’t that the most beautiful green you ever saw.” Makayla, Cheri and I were looking up and down the road for oncoming traffic. Good thing there isn’t a lot of traffic coming in and out of Bluebell. Another close call was while she was looking at something in the car and ended up in the other lane with oncoming cars but mom at the last minute was able to get back into our lane. The last straw was when she went to throw her gum out the window and ended up on the dirt shoulder but she was able to whip it back up into our lane once again and was able to get the car back under control. All in all, the trip was fun even though we almost died.
ALASKA
“Alaska or Bust” That’s what I remember written on the back of the motor home’s dirty window when Dad and mom drove to North Pole, Alaska to visit Scott and me in the summer of 1984. Mom, Dennis, Teri, Aaron and David came as well. Scott and I had just finished building and moving into our house that we built after living in a government trailer through the first winter. When dad climbed out the door, he was all smiles. I remember a letter dad wrote November 23, 1982, telling me that he ordered books about Alaska because he would like to visit but wasn’t sure he would get to. It was the only letter he ever wrote to me. When dad got to our house the thing I remember is him trying to fix something on the motor home. He was always tinkering.
While mom, dad and the kids were in Alaska, we traveled to Anchorage, Valdez and Homer. On July 18, Scott and I drove to Valdez and mom and dad followed us. We went Salmon fishing and dad and mom chartered the boat. We caught 21 salmon. Dad loved Salmon fishing. We caught and filleted our own fish. When we were cleaning the fish, dad was making fun of me because I was grossed out. I had to do it to prove I could do it and I did. Dad was impressed. Scott and I went down to a river and saw Dennis gutting a fish and we told him that he was in trouble for catching a fish without a license. He was not too concerned and continued cleaning the fish. He was not worried. The next day, we headed for Anchorage. I rode with mom and dad in the motor home because Scott, my husband, had to head back to Fairbanks so he could fly to Bethel, Alaska to work on Native Allotments. Mom had her 56th birthday in Anchorage, so the kids and I bought her a big white teddy bear to take back with her. She really liked it to my surprise and still has it 26 years later. While we were in Anchorage, we visited Duane Sorenson and his wife and stayed for a night. We left on Monday and headed to Homer. I remember dad let me drive the motor home down this long, winding, narrow two-lane road. I was driving my best but I guess I went over the yellow line too many times so he told me to stay in between the lines. Fortunately, we made it and he stopped worrying. The road was lined and covered by spruce trees and birch trees with flickering sunshine between the leaves. I guess I was too busy watching the scenery. As we approached the end of the road it opened up into green fields, and a small town that sat next to the ocean. It was so picturesque dad couldn’t believe it. He thought it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen. We drove through the town and ended at the water. We got their a little late so decided to walk around. We saw a lady that caught a 134 pound halibut. We wanted to catch halibut so we went to bed. Early the next morning, dad chartered a boat at $75 per person for half a day and went deep-sea fishing for Halibut. When we stepped out of the motor home there was a very fine mist of rain. Dad wasn’t feeling very well so he bought us tickets and laid down in the motor home while we were fishing. We wore our slickers and fishing boots. We all caught our halibut. Dennis caught the biggest one at 25 pounds and I caught a 20 pound fish. Together we caught 94 pounds of fish. We paid someone to clean and cut up the fish. Dennis and I drove to Denali Park. We slept in the parking lot because we got there really late. We ate halibut for dinner the next two nights: BBQ and Breaded. Dad was still on Utah time and was always making us get up three hours earlier than normal. I was beat! On our way home, we drove the Denali highway and found a glacier to climb on. It was the most beautiful blue green color I had ever seen. Scott, Aaron, David Teri, Dennis and I hiked up crossing gravel streams to the top. Dennis and David were running around them like they had a little bit of deer in them. Dennis jumped and climbed so fast and high, it amazed us.. he never got tired.
The most I remember of dad on this trip is him working on the motor home or cleaning the windows. He would ask Scott for this or that or run to the store to pick it up so he could fix something or other. It always made me feel like he was getting ready to leave.
We went to Alaska Land, a fairground that had frontier land exhibits. We mostly went just to feed them the beer-battered halibut which was Scott and my favorite. We ate beer-batter halibut, coleslaw and beans on a paper plate and sat down on long picnic tables and benches in the dirt. We ate so much. Afterwards we walked around and saw the Alaskan native and mining camps exhibits. Before mom and dad left, we visited “Santa Clause House” in the North Pole. It’s a gift shop but it’s also a place where all of the kids send their Santa letters. From there, they all headed home.
We had a memorable time and I was really sad after they left. It was hard for me to let them go.
California - Short stories
Every time I called and talked to dad on the phone he would always ask when I was coming to see him. I tried to visit at least twice a year when I got back to the States. Dad and mom came to our house in 2005. We sat outside in my backyard and would look out over the valley. He didn’t talk much, just said it was a nice view. When he got ready to leave, he told me to come and visit and he would sure miss me. He would always tell me he would miss me - I miss him.
When I was younger and living at home, he would always ask me if I would make him some cookies. He liked the kind that had dates or mincemeat in the middle. I would make and cut out sugar cookies and then put mincemeat in between the sugar cookies and back them. He was so excited when I showed him what I made for him. He also liked Peanut brittle and Boston baked beans . I remember he would ask me to go buy some for him. He would also ask if I wanted a Arctic Circle Shake and of course I would always get him one if I could have one.
I remember dad had a pop machine in his body shop and I would always reach my hand up the slot and trip the machines so a pop would fall out. I think every kid knew how to do that. Dad caught me once and said in a low growling voice, “what are you doing?” and I just laughed. After that I would ask dad if I could have money or the keys to the pop machine so I could buy or open the machine and get a pop
There is a strip of pictures of dad and me when I was maybe 5 years old. I remember we were holding hands but I don’t remember where we were. I think we were at Lagoon for the Kimball reunion. Dad must have won the straw hat for me and then we took a picture together.
When I was about the same age, it was Christmas time and I Wanted to buy something for Grandma Timothy. I remember begging for someone to take me to the store so dad got his shoes and coat on and took us to Walgreens. I picked out a red velvet covered box that had candy in it and I didn’t have enough money so dad made up the difference. Grandma Timothy passed away a few years ago but before she did, she gave me back the red velvet covered box. She kept it all these years and dad was there to make it happen. It meant a lot to me.
Mom would tell me when I was a toddler that dad would take me down to the other garage and sit me on his desk in a parts box. Dad had a conversation piece because customers would come in and ogle over me. I guess mom came to my rescue. That may have been the start of my body shop career. When I was older, dad would pay me to tape and sand cars. Up until I got a job at 14 years old at my uncle Brent’s theater I worked for my dad. He taught me a lot.
When Dad Left... by Dennis Hancock
May 13 2010 about 8:30 pm
I was sitting on a chair to dads left holding his hand; Janet and John were sitting on mom’s bed to his right. I told Dad that we were all here and that it was ok to go and to tell everybody hi for me when he got there. I kissed his fore head and told him I loved him.
We watch for a minute then I leaned down to see if he was breathing, he gasped for air so hard he scared me and Janet and John laughed at me because I jumped.
I decided to text Scott and Dave to tell them that it looked like Dad was about ready to go. Dave called and Scott texted me at the same time, 8:34.
I told Dave that it looked like Dad just took his last breath, then I watched Dad's pulse as it started to slow down. Then Scott text me if he should come right now, then his heart stopped at 8:35 p.m. while Dave was still on the phone with me.
After we hung up I called Scott to let him know he had passed just when he texted me. It took about a half hour before it really hit me, Dad was gone.
Dennis Hancock
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)