Tom winning the 440 dash at the state track meet

My writing improved greatly when I attended a Writer’s League of Texas summer retreat workshop at Sul Ross State University in 2008. Below is an example of an essay created while attending this class. During this event is when I came up with the phrase “strokes of wisdom”. 

On a clear, bright day in Austin, Dad and I walked on the front sidewalk of the University of Texas Stadium. As we walked along the cement, we could hear Dad’s movements: click-plop, click-plop, click-plop.  The clicks are the crutches hitting the cement; the plops are Daddy’s inflexible boots making contact with the ground.  At seven years of age, I was a veteran to this because whatever the sports season, the family attended an athletic event of one of the family members: baseball, football, basketball, track, or boxing.  This happened to be the state track meet, so one could hear various groups cheering their runner on, the poles dropping from the high jump, hurdles hitting the ground or shots going off to start the run.  When I looked up into the bleachers, the sun’s beams bounced brightly off the gray surface.  A few rows above us some townspeople waved and we waved back.  Daddy and I chose a good location near the finish line.  We sat on the front row. At the time I didn’t think anything of this position because we always sat on the front row.  Now I know it was because stairs were difficult for Dad to climb. But when Dad was seated, he looked like a man who was about 6’2” tall.  He sat with his back extremely straight and I was proud to be sitting beside him—we were buddies.

Just recently I found out Dad and John Wayne had birthdays very close together.  Dad is my John Wayne in more ways than one, as he is to all our family members.

My brother Tom’s presence at the track meet was not by accident or just raw athletic talent.  When the brothers delivered the newspaper, Dad had them running beside the car.  Rather than throw the paper into the yard, the brothers were expected to run the paper to the front door and place the newspaper inside the screen so the customer didn’t have to step outside.

Put yourself at the track meet and focus on Tom running step-by-step on the gravel track hearing other runners close behind him, his deep breathing, and the cheers in the background.  Now go back in time and picture a nine-year-old boy running down a pebbled road at night, “monsters watching from the dark.”  When he heard the pebbles hitting the ground behind him, his imagination frightened him and made him run faster.  On Dad’s command, Tom was delivering a newspaper alone to a customer who had not received it that day.  Dad gave the brothers guidance quite often.

You may ask how Dad had so much influence on the children’s actions. After being around Elmer Henry Davis for only a short time, you were in awe of each step he took.  A lot of people with a similar health condition would have stayed in bed all day.  We never heard him complain—if he couldn’t do something the regular way, he figured out another way to accomplish the task!  He used positive thinking, humor, and wisdom whenever possible. Because our father kept functioning and accomplishing a great deal in whatever he did, we healthy children had no excuse to complain.

For every step Tom was taking on that 440 track race, many steps occurred under the guidance and reassurance of Dad and Mom.  As Tom broke the string crossing over the finish line, above the applause, Dad’s powerful voice was yelling, “That a way, Tommy!” Whatever Mom and Dad’s kids were doing, Dad was there to watch and encourage.             

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