God scripts the perfect ending (Pt. 2)

(UPDATE)
Harold Lloyd "Pat" Patterson

Harold Lloyd "Pat" Patterson, beloved father and grandfather passed away Sunday, July 26, 2009 in Irving, TX., surrounded by his children and several grandchildren.

He was born on March 1, 1924 in Cherokee City, AR. to Claude & Margaret (Williams) Patterson.  From 1943-46, Harold was a captain aboard the U.S. Navy's PB4Y-2 Privateer in the South Pacific, and achieved the rank of Aviation Machinist Mate-Second Class.  He was honorably discharged in May 1946 and nine months later married Betty Jo Worthington, who would be his wife of 59 years until her death in January 2006.

Harold was a resident of Irving since 1964, a member of First Baptist Church, a veteran of the US Navy serving in World War II, and an avid baseball fan, especially of the Grand Prairie Air Hogs. Harold was a dedicated stamp collector like his father before him. He was also a supporter and frequent visitor of America's National Parks, especially his beloved Big Bend and Grand Canyon, and Texas State Parks.  He loved the great outdoors and traveled frequently, including seven cruises to Alaska. The dearest thing to him was and always will be his family and his life's love, Betty. Harold also gave 37 years of his life to American Airlines where since the mid-1970's he was a Technical Training Supervisor at D-FW Airport, where he trained instructors how to teach commercial airplane mechanics.

He was preceded in death by his wife, Betty Jo Patterson; mother, Margaret Aery; father, Claude Patterson, and brother, Carl Patterson.  He is survived by his children, David Patterson and wife, Dell Anne, of Irving; Claudia Cox and husband, James, of Irving, and Jimmy Patterson and wife, Karen of Midland; 12 grandchildren, 23 great grandchildren; two brothers, Don Chisum of Colorado Springs, CO., William F. Patterson of Reynoldsburg, OH., and one sister, Mary Lou Burgess of Tulsa, OK.

The family will receive friends for visitation on Wednesday from 6-8 p.m. at Chapel of Roses Funeral Home, 1225 E. Irving Blvd. Funeral services will be at 11 a.m. Thursday, July 30, 2009, at First Baptist Church, 403 S. Main St., Irving, TX. 75060.

Interment will follow at D/FW National Cemetery at 1:30PM in Dallas, TX.

Rev. Wayne Watkins will officiate. Memorial contributions can be made to First Baptist Church-Irving Evergreen Program, the National Kidney Foundation or the Citizens' Development Center of Dallas.
 
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Many of my memories as a young boy are of enjoying the game of baseball with my father. Learning the ins and outs, and ups and downs; enjoying the stories and the history, and being entertained by the sheer greatness of the game alongside my father.

Many of my questions in life come from the experiences dad had but never shared during his time as a captain in the U.S. Navy, stationed in the South Pacific during World War II.

Dad and I attended the very first Texas Ranger baseball game in 1972. I was a wide-eyed 12-year-old kid, he an appreciative man of 48 who was happy a Major League team had finally come to his hometown. We watched together in awe as Frank Howard, a huge man, homered to help the Rangers win that first game.

Ten years ago, I finally urged my dad into talking about his military service as I put together a commemorative newspaper front page for his 75th birthday. He spent the entire time talking about the good memories, the camaraderie, the trouble he and his fellow sailors would always just barely escape. He talked about the time a friend had stashed a motor scooter into his airplane's wheel well and the landing gear would hardly extract in time for touchdown. He spoke of dangling his feet out the bomb bay door and feeling the spray of the Pacific as the pilot skirted along just over the top of the water.

But he never talked about what he did in combat. Until the day he died, he never discussed the ugly part of war but you could see in his eyes through his non-answers that what he had been forced to do in the war still deeply troubled him. Dad, until the day he died Sunday, had a deep respect for human life, and a powerful disdain for war and all its horrors.

He was awarded the silver star for his bravery in combat and he loved his country deeply and dearly. He was patriotic without being political. An American without need for any further labeling.

And, as I think I mentioned earlier, he loved his baseball. And he handed that love down to his children. He was, at one time early in life, the No. 1 hose man for the St. Louis Cardinals' farm team in Springfield, Mo., until a big, young Cardinal prospect showed up at the field and knocked him down to No. 2 hose man. That kid's name was Joe Garagiola. (When it became apparent baseball would not work as a career, Dad would later turn to airplanes, where he made his living teaching mechanics how to fix 747s and DC-10s and other large jets at DFW Airport. I was always impressed with how smart he had to be to do that.)

In the last two years of dad's life he developed a passion for a small independent league baseball team, the Grand Prairie Air Hogs. My brother purchased season tickets so my dad could go watch the team as often as he wanted. They played maybe three or four miles from his home in south Irving. The Air Hogs are a team without the huge crowds that he didn't like fighting at Ranger games, and it was a team without the unnecessary side shows and sordid soap operas so often inherent with Major League teams. It was just baseball stripped down, and dad's love for the Air Hogs spread through the entire family. It was almost as if they had formed just for my dad's enjoyment in the last years of his life.

I write all of this to set the stage for what was my dad's last few minutes. He died Sunday afternoon at 3:25 at Hearthstone Hospice in Irving.

He was surrounded by a dozen of his children and grandchildren as everyone joined together and formed a circle of love and life. Standing in the midst of the death of a loved one is an indescribably powerful experience, and one of the most difficult things I have ever been a part of. But also very necessary.

Dad spent his final two days in a private hospice room. A common area for the family was just outside that room. In that common area was a television mounted on a wall. For much of his final two days, the TV mercifully remained off. On the afternoon of his death someone had turned it on but left the volume down.

As his family circled around him and it became apparent dad was in his final few moments, the sound of singing could be heard. My niece looked at me, then at others, as we tried to figure out what it was that had broken the sacred silence, and why all of a sudden the TV had been turned up. No one could explain. Soon enough, it became apparent to everyone who huddled around my dad that the song that was filling the room -- and coming from the television in the family room -- was "God Bless America" being performed during the seventh inning stretch of the Rangers game Sunday afternoon.

As the song's final notes drifted away and the song ended, dad took one last deep breath, closed his eyes and was gone.

Comments

[Theocritus]

I'm very sorry about your loss. My mother had a difficult death and I recall so well the emptiness that we felt, and the sense of finality. But also the sense that she was no longer in pain and suffering.

Very nice, to have "God Bless America" in the background. Couldn't ask for anything better at such a time.

[Ospurt]

From your stories about your Dad he had a life well lived. Full of friends, family and a love of unique things that brought joy to his life, and apparently yours.

Though you have lost your Dad, it is obvious he lived a life worthy of the eternal rest he now enjoys.

"God Bless America" indeed.

[Dawn]

My heart goes out to you and your family. I'm going to agree with Ospurt...

Indeed.

[lishakat]

What a beautiful life story. My condolences go out to you and your family. Thank you for sharing this.

[Steve Drummond]

Jimmy you and your family are in our prayers. That was a beautiful tribute to your Dad that I feel sure the Lord helped you write.

[Tim Kreitz]

Your dad's life was one to be proud of, Jimmy. If you need anything, you know I'm just two houses down the street.

[Tami Gillean]

God bless you Jimmy and many thanks for sharing your life with all of us over the years. You are so very right, what a perfect ending!

[Geo]

So sorry about your Dad. Best wishes.

[bob westbrook]

There is no life without death. Death comes in many ways and I suspect your dad would have preferred this way to pass, with family around to say goodbye and God Bless America playing at a baseball game. It is good to celebrate the life he had and the person he was.

[Beth]

Jimmy, Our WWII Navy fathers and their love of baseball are very similar stories. My Dad was an Underwater Demolition Team member of the Navy and he, too, would never discuss the horrors of war that he witnessed. Baseball was always a great joy for him as well. After my Dad died, I felt a little odd...a little disjointed... to be in the world knowing that my father was not there to back me up. His strength of character, so common in that group of WWII veterans, was hard to let go. That is, until I figured out, I didn't have to let it go. I could carry it forward. My God comfort you as you grieve for him.

[Wallace]

My heartfelt sadness is with you at his passing. They called men like him them "The Greatest Generation" quite simply because......they were.

[Eric]

Jimmy, I add my condolences to those expressed above. It's another occasion to give thanks to God for His tender mercies, and for eternal life for His children.

[Jimmy]

Thanks to everyone for your prayers, warm wishes and kind words -- jp

[Sharon Crozier]

My sympathies are with you and your family. It sounds like he was "of the grestest generation."

[Tricia]

Jimmy, I just loved reading that. Your father certainly lived a charmed life, and is leaving behind such a wonderful legacy.

What a beautiful memorial this is. My heart goes out to you and your family this week...

[the-eurasianearthlink.net]

Everyone needs prayers as they travel to another other world. Even Jesus was in communication with the Father on the cross right to the very end. So good to hear that your dad is receiving a ton of prayers. He might even be able to use those prayers to help others in the other world.

In peace we must try to build a better world so that the day will come when nations will no longer war with other nations but will trade with one another exporting goods and services to each other, goods and services that have no market in the territories where they came from, but goods and services that have markets in the world of nations out there, nations which could have been our enemies if not for their dependence on our exports and imports which gives jobs to their people and jobs to our people. Then people all over the world can die not as heroes in wars but as heroes in peace.

[Gwynne]

Beautiful, Jimmy. Such a loving testimony and much as I know he will be missed, it sounds like he created memories for his family to enjoy the remainder of their lives here on earth. What a perfect ending.

[Crissy]

God bless you and your family Jimmy.

[Jim]

Oh, Jimmy. I'm sorry!

[Jeff]

I'm sorry to hear about your father. Our prayers are with you.

[Spencer]

We're so sorry for your family's loss Jimmy. Our prayers go out to your and yours.

[Janice Ford]

Jimmy, Karen and family, my thoughts and prayers are with you at this difficult time. Your father was a terrific man, and I have enjoyed learning about him through your stories and precious memories.

[Joe Don Hancock]

Deepest sympathy on your loss. What a great father, friend and confidant your Dad must have been. Knowing you through your writing, I can see his character reflected in your life, your principles and in your attitude toward what isn truly important and eternal. May God bless you and your family.

[Deb Stanger]

So sorry to hear of your Dad's passing, he sounds like a wonderful man. Please remember him during these hard days and keep your family close. We up here in Illinois are thinking of you.