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My Father
© Copyright 1999, Jim Loy
[See addendum below concerning Dad's death] My father
(on the left, waterskiing on the wrong foot with the sun behind him, about age
60), John S. Loy, is normally called Jack. He is a retired machinist and saw
filer. He was born on March 25, 1917 in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. My
grandparents, Walt and Lucia Loy, then moved to Kalispell, Montana, where Dad
and his brother Bill went to high school. My grandfather started a sawmill
called Superior Buildings, in Columbia Falls. My dad worked there most of his
life. My dad married Mabel Hanberg. They moved to Columbia Falls and had two
kids, my brother Dave and me.
Dad and Mom built our house in Columbia Falls. Dad builds very sturdy
houses. I remember my dad adding on a bigger bedroom for my brother Dave and I,
and a porch, and a garage, and a dining room. The furnace in the basement
burned sawdust, originally. I remember my father shoveling sawdust from a truck
into the basement, and from the sawdust pile in the basement into the furnace.
I remember Dad borrowing a truck to get sawdust from the mill. Before they had
a teepee burner, there was a huge pile of sawdust at the mill. There was ice
inside it, all year round. Then Dad converted the furnace to burning oil, and
we had a rubber tank next to the house.
When I was young, my father worked a lot of overtime, at the sawmill. It
seemed that sometimes that he was gone a lot. He wore dark gray or green work
clothes, with suspenders over his shirt. He often had a lot of sawdust inside
his clothes (from changing saws), something that would have bothered me
tremendously.
I remember my dad burning the weeds in the back yard, several times. We
would end up with a black field. He build our lawn mower. I remember him fixing
broken pipes in the winter. The city water mains were wooden pipes, it would
seem.
Dad put up a basketball net, which attracted the neighbor boys. It was
under 10', because I wanted to be able to dunk the ball. I remember trudging
through the snow, in the woods near the sawmill, to get a Christmas tree,
always a nice looking fir tree. Dad cut it down, dragged it through the snow to
a truck, and then he set it up in our living room. We put on lights (it was
hard to find the burned out bulbs) and tinsel and glass balls.
I didn't realize that Dad was an important man at the sawmill, or that
Grandpa was part owner. Dad would build or fix anything. He was cutting and
welding, a lot. He welded the cracks in the saw blades. He got hurt a couple of
times. Once a sharp band saw fell on him. Once a long wooden sliver almost went
right through him.
Dad is a stamp collector. He originally collected stamps from all over
the world. Then he specialized in Canadian and American stamps, and gave his
worldwide collection to me.
Dad couldn't sing. He doesn't seem musical at all. I assumed that he was
a member of our church, First Baptist Church, in Columbia Falls. But he became
a member after I did.
Mom and Dad bought a place at Lake Blaine. Dad built the cabin and the
boat house and two docks. He built a winch (later motorized) to raise the boat
out of the water. We filled the docks with rocks, from the lake. Dad
waterskied, on one ski, into his 60s. He built some of our skis. He built a
little hydroplane speed boat. It moved out pretty good. We never raced it,
though.
Mom and Dad supported my brother and I, in whatever we wanted to do,
sports, music, whatever. They bought us lots of sports stuff. They bought my
trombone, and later a better trombone. They gave us rides to practice. But, I
don't remember any open encouragement. And sometimes I did not appreciate the
great help that they did give me.
The sawmill burned down a couple of times. And then it went bankrupt.
So, Dad retired.
My father is about 5' 8", quite a bit shorter than I am (I'm 6'). He has
always been thin. Most of my life, he has weighed about 140 lb. Now, he weighs
about 100 lb. He had a stroke, a couple of years ago, which slurred his speech
somewhat. He continues to make things out of wood and metal, in his shop, in
the garage.
He is a kind and good person.
Addendum:
My father died recently (2000), at the age of 83. His small intestines
died because of a blood clot. Mercifully, he died very quickly. In 1999, he had
an operation for colon cancer.
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