Carl James Cook-Life Sketch Part 6

Remembrances of Carl James Cook

by his son, Rulon Jay
 
1909-1966

From my first recollection, I remember by father, Carl James Cook,  as the Ward Clerk. It seems like every Sunday was spent waiting for Dad to get out of meeting, but as a result, I got to explore all the little nooks and crannies of the church house. I remember one time while sitting up on the clerk's bench with Dad, I was rocking back and forth in my chair and tipped over with a loud bang - I was so embarrassed. I don't know what Dad thought, but I cried and hid my face for the rest of the meeting.

We had a good home 1ife, my father was a hardworking farmer, who loved the land. He also was very kind and compassionate to those in need as many times he helped a neighbor or a friend when in need or want. He also had a gentle knowing touch with animals - he liked them and they liked him.

I used to go with him to check out the sheep at night and to look for new lambs or marauding dogs. I remember how quickly these sheep- ki11ing dogs were dispatched with a well-placed shot from the old 30-30 Winchester. I used to ride on the back of the Ford Tractor when we fed the sheep hay and grain, the old bucks would bend down to feed and I would hop on their backs and they would then run very fast to the next pile of grain and stop suddenly, throwing me into the snow. Dad used to really laugh at that. One of my most favorite times was when we went fishing with Dad. We spent most of our fishing trip at places such as Medicine Lodge, Camas Creek and Birch Creek. Being the smallest, I usually followed along with Dad and remember one time when I hadn't caught a fish and dad asked me to hold his pole for him while he fixed my line. I caught a big brook trout, the biggest of the day - as I think back on it now, I know he caught the fish and handed me the pole - he was such a good father for a young boy.

I also remember when I got my first BB gun, he used to tell me that he would give me a Penny for every sparrow I shot  mainly because they ate so much of the grain intended for the livestock. I became quite a hunter of sparrows, starlings and other such nuisances.

In hindsight the thing I appreciate most about my father was that he believed in giving his kids responsibility. Even while I was young I remember being given the responsibility of gathering the eggs and feeding and watering the chickens, feeding the bum lambs their milk and helping straw the corrals. Being so young on the farm, I couldn't buck hay or load sacks of potatoes, but it seems like I always drove the tractors.

I was only eleven when my father died, as a matter of fact, he passed away on my birthday. Every time I have a birthday, I think of him and remember the good 'times. Although I was so young when he died, and I don't have a lot of memories, the ones I do have are very special.

My most precious memory that I remember each year on my birthday and at other times is that he loved me very much and I loved him; you never forget memories like that.