Thursday, March 1, 2012
In Memory of My Father James W. August July 22, 1958 - Feb 25, 2012 When people hear the name Jim August, a few things jump to mind, Genny Cream Ale, Fast Cars, and Good Tunes. He worked hard all his life and loved it. He loved to party and was never ashamed of it, if he were sitting beside me now there would be a cold beer in his hand and froth on his mustache. He’s honest and a loyal friend and father. I don’t think I’ll ever know a man like him again and this world will not be the same without him. When I was about ten years old he bought me a gas powered helicopter, it was amazing, we spent all morning putting on the stickers and making it ready to fly with small modifications of the engine to get it running really good. We ate a big breakfast of homefries and eggs, with a side of bacon, the whole time talking about how neat it’s going to be to fly and talking about the many model rockets we had flown. When the time finally came to start it up we were both like excited kids and decided to first just put in a little gas to test out the engine, so as he poured in just a little bit into the engine we got more and more excited trying to guess how loud it’ll be and if it’ll really fly. There was a mini propeller above the normal helicopter propellers that you had to turn by hand at the resistance of a spring, and when you let it go it spins like crazy in the opposite direction and cranks over the engine. Since we had never done it before we had no idea what was going to happen, he spun that propeller like crazy and when he released it, It SCREAMED so loud and he grabbed ahold of the landing bars to keep it from going out of control, it ran for about 20 seconds and blasted smoke all over the kitchen. After airing out the kitchen and laughing like crazy and joking about it sounding like a mini Harley we brought it on the back deck preparing for launch. He filled the gas tank all the way up and showed me how to start it, and so we were almost ready. Holding the propeller tightly wound in my hand was an adrenaline rush knowing it was about to explode into action. I released the propeller and again it screamed and began whirling the much bigger propeller and it began to leave the ground and within seconds it was almost to the clouds it was amazing, we laughed and could just start to hear each other again as the chopper entered the clouds but we could still here it screaming with what seemed like no intention of stopping and we continued to laugh, then began to wonder if it was ever going to stop, It was well beyond the clouds now and you could hear getting more and more faint, but not because it was ready to stop because it was still screaming, I’d say it was a full 3 or 4 minutes before we could not hear the chopper anymore and never once heard the engine give any sign of stopping. Needless to say it was the last time we ever saw that chopper again and yet it was one of the most remembered and great birthdays of my life. My Father had a way of making anything fun, and although other people may not have thought it was the best way or sometimes the safest way, they could never argue that it was not the most fun way. I could list off a hundred stories of my dad and I and say that he was a great guy. If you had the honor of knowing him then please bow your head and raise your glass in the honor of a wonderful man who will be forever missed and forever loved. The reason I chose the story about the helicopter is that he had joked about the chopper that had flown to heaven, and if that is true I hope that he has finally found it and remembers the great time we had. I love you dad and wish I had the chance to tell you again before you passed. I could not finish without a lyric from his favorite band, Pink Floyd “The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older, shorter of breath and one day closer to death.” Raymond August