"I believe my favorite story from my dad would be when we were young, and he took us to the beach. He would talk to us about water and how it could be so calm and peaceful, but also tell us about how it could be so powerful and destructive. He also showed us how near impossible it was to fight the waves while allowing them to carry us to shore was far easier.
"My take away from that was that some situations call for you to be gentle and some for you to be more stern. He taught us that, like the water, we were beautiful and gentle, but we also had the strength within us to stick up for ourselves and others. If you know him, you know the same holds true for how he acts in his life. He can be outspoken and firm, but he also has a reputation for being kind, generous and caring. Blessed to have a dad who teaches me the importance of balance in everything!"
- Elyssa DeCaprio Teel,
Texarkana, Texas
"My dad taught me to ride a bike, took me fishing, played games, and was at all my activities. As a veteran, he taught me to be patriotic, to appreciate what we have here in this country, and to give to others. I remember sitting in the floor as a little girl and watching the Cubs play on WGN on Sunday afternoons with my dad. One of my favorite memories as an adult has been to finally watch the Cubs play live at Wrigley field with my dad. Now, I enjoy watching my children making memories with their Grandpa. He's their best friend and they enjoy the lessons, games, and treats that come with spending time with 'Pa.'"
- Ashley Parker Harris,
Texarkana, Texas
"Growing up my dad has always taught me the game of softball. From T-Ball to 14U fastpitch. He has taught me the values of working hard and playing hard. He has never missed a game. Ends up coaching every team I play on. My dad is my hero, my support, my encourager, my 'go- to' person. He teaches me principles and the rules to earning respect in the world. I cherish all the memories and lessons taught to me the past 13 years. So, I say 'Thank you, Dad' from the delivery room to the softball field: our passion."
- Aniya Arnold (age 13), Texarkana, Texas
"My dad always taught me to work hard and hard work pays off. A memory from my childhood about my dad is he bought an old coke machine and put it on our back porch. He filled it up with Dr. Peppers and lots of Yoo-Hoos! All the neighbors would come and buy drinks, and some kids from school as well. We had to work in the garden, mow and earn money to buy cold 'soda pops' when we wanted something to drink. When the summer came for vacation, he let us kids split the money. It was so worth it! To this day, my dad is still a hard worker and I am so thankful for the work ethics he instilled in me."
- Jodee Thomas,
Texarkana, Texas
"My dad, R.B. Porterfield, was a craftsman. He was a carpenter and a welder by trade, and the hardest working man I have ever known. He suffered from polio as a child, leaving his left arm underdeveloped and lacking strength. Most never knew that. He worked harder and longer to compensate. Because of the polio, he was not admitted into the military-a fact that he was not thrilled about. He was one of six children, and his three brothers all served in the armed forces. However, he was extremely patriotic and believed in duty and service to our country. To that end, he found other ways to help people: a lifelong blood donor, a good Samaritan to a fault, and a believer in liberty and freedom at all costs.
"When I was a small child, he worked at Red River Army Depot and signed up to go to Saudi Arabia as a civilian to help with the "cleanup effort" after Desert Storm. This allowed he and my mom to save enough money to build a new house, a gorgeous two-story home in rural Cass County on our generational homestead.
"The amazing part of it all was that dad, along with my uncles, built the entire house himself. The only things he contracted out were Sheetrock and carpet. Literally the only things he did not do himself were those two things. Otherwise, he spent every waking moment for 18 months, on the weekends, early in the morning, late at night, working at the house. Every inch of the house was a product of his blood, sweat and tears and was designed and built with his own two hands and rather primitive tools. They paid for it as they went, and when it was finished, didn't owe a dime. Now that I'm an adult and understand the value of things, I realize how truly incredible this was!
"Dad was probably meant to live in the 19th century rather than the 20th. He preferred to do things the "old fashioned" way. He planted a huge garden every year I can remember, growing corn, tomatoes, peas and squash. It was not until the end of his life that he bought a new tractor, and so every year he would work on and fight with the hand-me-down circa 1950s Farmall Cub tractor he inherited from his father to plant and manage the acre to 1 acre garden he otherwise insisted on plowing and turning by hand. As a kid, I didn't realize what a privilege it was to eat fresh produce, grown in our front yard and drink water from a well dug in our back yard. He raised chickens and we ate what he hunted. I suppose you can say we lived farm to table before it was cool. I took for granted the blessings we had and longed for a "city life" with central A/C and cable television.
"The funny part about that is this: Now, in adulthood, I have been trying to get back to the simple life for some time now. I went off to college and swore I had never come back here to rural Cass County, but fell in love with a high school sweetheart and put down roots back at home.
"We recently sold our quiet, middle class suburban home in a lovely neighborhood 'in town' to build back at my childhood homeplace in the middle of the woods. I long to show my own kids what it means to be connected to the natural resources we have at our disposal. I want my sons to grow up hunting and fishing and roaming and possibly even understanding where our food comes from. It's funny how the things you take for granted as a child are exactly the things you end up longing for as an adult.
"Back to dad:
When he was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease in the mid-2000s, he continued to work outside. Most patients suffering with Lou Gehrig's experience loss of muscle in their extremities first, including hands, feet, arms and eventually legs and neck. Whether it was a misdiagnosis for Dad, or he was just that stubborn, I will never know, be he walked and worked in his garden the day before his death on July 2, 2008, even after he lost the ability to speak or swallow.
"He died in his sleep, as peacefully and honorable as one can hope to pass from this life into the next. He was a devout Christian and read his Bible as often as possible. His famous advice to me was "Lisa, always do what's right." And as simple as that seems, I find myself going back to it often. Life gets so complicated, and choices seem so difficult at times. When I stop and pause to think about which direction to go, I often hear his voice in the back of my head and see his piercing blue eyes staring through to my soul: 'Lisa, always do what's right.'
I try to make him proud every day, to honor his legacy. I have traveled all over the nation and ventured out into the world. I've earned a master's degree and enjoyed a robust professional life. I have won awards and honors and serve my community in various positions, but Dad wouldn't be impressed by any of that. He would want to know about what I've invested in my children, how I was helping other people, and how I was making contribution to the Kingdom of God.
"In the grand scheme of things, R.B. Porterfield lived a simple life, but the way he lived it was radical in and of itself. He did not chase money, or fame, or even popularity. He was not a warm and fuzzy girl dad letting me paint his fingernails and put bows in his beard. We did not have the perfect relationship, and much of my understanding of him didn't come until after he was gone. But he sacrificed every single day, physically, mentally, financially, and more, to give us a good life. He broke the chains of substance and family abuse. He pointed us to Jesus, in his own, broken way, and I am forever grateful for being his daughter."
- Lisa Porterfield Thompson, Atlanta, Texas