I know my Dad loves me. I think that's my favorite thing about my Dad. He was born in Washington, lived in Alaska for a while and eventually lived in Oregon, a little town called Sweethome where he and mom met.
This is a picture of him when he was a little guy.
Like all his kids, he has always been really athletic, although when he was young he broke his leg and polio made his athletics a lot tougher. Even with polio he played sports and in high school, he was one of the quarter backs for his football team. He's quite the champion when it comes to his passion for playing and his love of the game and life burying the struggles that polio has brought.
One thing about my Dad engrained in my memory is watching him run, he has a pretty good limp, and always has and I dont know how many times he's had surgery on his foot but he still cannot use the muscle that brings your toes into your shin. But Ive seen him run and run and run. He's a determined, hard working
man. Like I said, he's a Champion.
This is a picture of him and me when I was a little guy.
My Mother grew up L.D.S. and told my Dad one day that she was going to marry someone inside an L.D.S. temple, so my Dad decided he had better find out more about this religion. He read the Book of Mormon and had missionaries come and answer his questions and teach him the gospel. He was baptized when he was 19. They were married when they were 21. (In the Oakland Temple which was closest then) .
He studied at Oregon State, then came to Provo to get his P.H.D. in Chemical and Petroleum Engineering at BYU. I remember one time I think we were living in Kansas ( actually I'm pretty sure it was Wyoming) when we all gathered around the T.V. cause Dad was supposed to be on the news talking about fusion or fission or oil or something, but that wasn't the important part to us, he was on T.V.! We were Rich! Well, not really, but that's what we always used to say when we'd see someone we knew or a place we knew on T.V. The Terry family went in a circle around the USA until we ended up in Utah and my Dad started teaching at BYU. He's currently still a professor there.
I love my Dad. He's a good person. I've never once heard him yell at my Mom, they've disagreed but I've never heard them yell at each other. He's a person that believes in, loves, and tries to follow the teachings and examples of Jesus Christ.
Growing up, we had a night every week that we'd spend as a family doing stuff and having a gospel lesson (family home evening), on Sundays we would go to church and do Sabbath day things, we even studied the scriptures in the morning for some years, but my favorite was our family prayer every night before we went to bed.
Pop would call on whoever to say the prayer and right after the prayer was over we'd start tackling Dad, well at least we'd all dog pile on his back, we could never tackle him, it was the funnest time ever. He would pull us down from his back one at a time (or 2) and tickle us unmercifully. Then we'd get away and jump right on his back. I remember laughing and laughing till tears would come and my stomach would hurt. Funnest time ever. Those family prayers wrestling with pop are my favorite childhood memories.
Cheers for good Fathers!
Cheers for good Pops!
Cheers for good Dads!
Cheers to you Pop!
