This Blog post is to honor one of the greatest men I've ever known. My Grandfather was born on August 29th, 1931, in the early stages of the great depression. Although I only heard his life story once, I've come to appreciate everything that he has ever shared. He lived during a time that many of us could not imagine. With no cell phones, no internet, and probably no TV, he managed to gain valuable lessons.
My grandfather didn't go to high school. Instead he worked on the farm and aided in making a living. Then, farming and agriculture was much different. With much less technology and lots more hard labor, he never turned down an opportunity to help others.
At our last Christmas together, during a game of Rummy, I had the change to ask him about his first wife and my dad's mother, Agnes. She passed away after a losing battle with cancer in 1993. Grandpa told me that they were dating and when he was going to be shipped to Korea, as he was a part of the United States Armed Forces (I'm not sure which branch he was in), he and my grandmother decided not to get married in the case that he might not return. This decision was such an impact for me to hear, because it seems like just the opposite for so many military couples these days.
Grandpa Clete never had the chance to be a part of the National FFA Organization. However, he would have grown greatly from it. However, he was one of the most supportive people in my time as an FFA member. Every time he would see that blue jacket his eyes would light up and he would ask what I was doing, where I had been and how I was leaving an impact.
He and his second wife, Delores, whom most of us consider to be our grandmother as she has filled that role were the definition of servant leadership. Together the volunteered at the local hospital, helped at the local nursing home, and served on many committees in their community. Grandpa went to church every single day and was the first in line to help when needed. He loved helping others and did it without ever asking for anything, especially recognition, in return.
So many memories come flooding back as I write this tonight. I remember the good times of playing cards, and always losing at rummy. In all the years we played, I only beat him one time. But when we threw the new game Phase 10 out there, he could never seem to beat us. He always had fig newtons, which I thought were for old people, but I've learned that I really like. He would wear the same clothes two days in a row, "well, because they didnt get dirty yesterday so why wear a new set and wash these?' I remember the weeks in the summer when we would stay at his and Grandma Delores' house. They would make us delicious meals and peach cobbler, and take us swimming and watch Black Beauty with us over and over again. Then they would make us go to bed and I would always try to sneak in a playing of the harmonica without him noticing!
As I got older the memories became more meaningful. I remember working on the farm together. Loading and unloading wagons during harvest, running errands for Dad year-round, riding in his little red ford ranger. He truly loved working on the farm. I still go back to the very place where we were unloading a hopper wagon of grain at the home farm and I asked him if he missed farming. He said that he did, but it was nice to be able to stop at 5pm and head home. And he always carried that same ole' lunch box with him. All the time.
I remember him stopping by just to pick up eggs. And he ALWAYS insisted on paying for them. When he knew he didn't need to. How I'd give anything to have him walk through the back door of the house just dropping by to say hi.
One thing is for sure: He left an impact in his home and community. He provided leadership, service, and a passion for agriculture. He loved working on the farm. He showed us each and every time that family was important to him. We learned so many lessons: Always hold your cards close, laugh when you can, smell the candles, love your garden and it will grow, puzzles are relaxing, retirement is great (even though I'll argue that he never really retired.) He taught us that hard work pays off. He showed us what living a life of value means. He is a role model that I can base my life off of.
My grandfather passed away in one of those tragic accidents that you only hear about on the news on April 13, 2010. It seemed unreal and still does to this day. However, my good friend Luke sent a remarkable letter to me during that painful time. He said, "I didn't know your grandfather but I know that he accomplished two things in life that I hope to one day: He had a great family and second, He met the Father while wearing his work boots."
When I'm grieving, usually alone behind closed doors, I remember those words Luke said. I remember the outpouring of community support and all the people that came to the calling hours and the funeral to pay their respects to a man who made a difference in their life.
So, how does this relate to Agriculture and Technology. I'm not really sure. This class has allowed me to feel comfortable posting my thoughts on the internet. I know that there are people who truly care about me that read this. For those people who knew my grandfather, they could tell you hands down his passion for this industry and the lessons that he learned. They would also tell you about his passion for the FFA. I remember him being at State FFA Convention the year I was a State FFA Officer, he would cover his name tag and asked random FFA members who their State FFA President and Treasurer were. Then he would show them his last name and tell them that he was the great-uncle and grandfather to the two of us. He was so proud of the impact that we were making in the youth and our interest and passion for the industry.
He was a man that I intend to model my life and teaching career after. Show each person that you care, help others when needed, support those around you, be strict and ultimately love what you do. Oh, and there is no need to say bad words... "Fiddlesticks" has the same effect.
Forever and Always in our hearts, Clete Schmitz.
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