Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Not So Random Adults in Our Lives

Mr. Frear lived in the neighborhood when I was growing up. In fact, he was the first 
resident in the neighborhood. His full name was Dana W. Frear. His wife's maiden name
 was Chase. My family lived on Chase Drive, which was parallel to Frear Drive, which
 were connected by Dana Drive. You get the idea. We all lived on land that his family had 
once farmed. Mr. Frear had retired many years ago from teaching agriculture at the 
University of Minnesota in St. Paul. He was hard of hearing, could not see well and 
walked with a cane. Mr. Frear also had a foundation structure that used to support a barn 
before a tornado took it out  a long, long time ago. 

When I was around 12 years old, some neighbor boys and I were messing around one 
summer with too much time on our hands. We were exploring the old beat up foundation. 
I grabbed a huge, steel ladle that was just lying there and broke one of the windows in the
 foundation. Long story short, I ended up paying for the window. But, Mr. Frear didn't want
 my folks paying for it (not that they would have), so he hired me at the astounding pay 
rate of 60 cents an hour to do odd jobs and lawn work. He kept me on after the window 
was paid off. I mowed the lawn and raked leaves. Once or twice a year, i would take a 
red coaster wagon and haul the gravel that had been washed down the steep driveway 
back up and redistribute it where Mr. Frear wanted it. He taught me how to put a 
galvanized pipe hand-railing around the exterior of his house - partly to give him support 
and partly so that he wouldn't get lost as his sight became worse and worse. I planted his 
garden and weeded it. 

I occasionally did some inside work during the winter, but most of the frosty season was 
spent shoveling the driveway, sidewalk, and the path next to the galvanized pipe railing. 

In addition to the work and learning about pipes, gravel, soldering, and why you should 
probably not break windows in what look like abandoned foundations, I had an important 
adult in my young life. He taught me a lot. I don't know that he was a friend, but he was a 
kind and thoughtful mentor. He was like a piece of history and often talked about "the old 
days". He subtly tried to instill in me a healthy attitude towards life and respect for others
 - lest I spend the rest of my life smashing other people's windows, i suppose. We were, 
at least fond of each other, even though we never did "fun stuff" together. I lived about 
seven hours away from my grandparents or any other relatives, so I think he became a 
surrogate grandfather to me. 

In junior high and high school, I got real jobs. I would occasionally stop by and find out 
how things were going with him and get a short course in how to be a kind and thoughtful
 sort of person. The last time I saw him, I was one of the pall bearers at his funeral. 


Mr. Frear was a great mentor. I'm not sure 
that he intended to be, although he had 
the heart and experience of being a 
teacher. It came naturally to him. I 
remember him with affection. So far, 
I haven't broken any more windows --
 intentionally anyway.