We're still working on a more detailed version that will appear in the Minot paper, but even that seems so limited. I decided to write my own and post it here.
Dad was part of large family. The first surviving child of Oliver and June. Dad grew up surrounded by aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents and soon sisters and brothers who worked and played like Carlsons (and Petersons and Martins). While I have not met all, or maybe even most, of Dad’s cousins, I feel like I know so many from the stories Dad told about growing up surrounded by so many.
Dad was interested in genealogy and kept extensive records
of his and mom’s family and ancestry. He
also enjoyed connecting with distant family and sharing what he was able to find
out about the family history with anyone who would listen.
Dad loved growing up on the farm and took advantage of
getting on a tractor any chance he could.
When returning to the farm outside of Minot, plowing fields in Frontier,
joining in at harvest time in Mayville, or using the riding mower in the yard
at home.
Dad had a love of nature and taught me to keep a pair of
binoculars in the car, and to take time to stop and use them, whether to look
for birds in Nerstrand, seals at Deception Pass, or gophers at the rest area in
Beach. He was the one who always knew
what crop was growing in the fields we passed by, and what animal was on the
side of the road. He would often be the
only one to spot a pheasant or a hawk on a long drive across the prairies, and
despite our lack of interest, always maintained a curiosity and desire to share
the sights. The field guides to local
birds were well worn and Dad enjoyed watching the varieties that came to his
many bird feeders, or could be found on a walk around the neighborhood.
Dad was a pastor for most of his life, and would have
celebrated 40 years this spring. He
loved his job and even the challenges that come with serving. A couple of years
ago he and I went out to breakfast and he was talking about the work he was
doing as a chaplain at the nursing home in town and at the hospital in Mt.
Vernon (a town not far away) and he was telling me how much he had enjoyed
pulpit ministry over the years, but that he was well suited for the chaplain
work he was doing at the time, and what a privilege it was for him to talk to
people, pray for people, minister to people at a time when they are often
looking for answers and receptive to hearing God’s word. Yes, he was content with the work God gave
him to do over his lifetime and while the path was not always what he
anticipated, he found joy along the journey.
Of course, Dad held many other part-time jobs in addition to
the pastorate. He worked in the stockyards
in college, was a milkman during seminary, worked in the fields in Frontier,
delivered newspapers and delivered packages in Edmonton, drove school bus in
Faribault, helped harvest in Mayville, worked as a youth counselor at Elmore Academy
while living in Blue Earth, painted houses with friends in Stanwood, and worked
as a parking attendant at Lights of Christmas in Warm Beach
Woodworking has long been something Dad has enjoyed. And while he was admittedly never the most
technically skilled, we all own pieces he made with love.
And Dad loved to sing.
While he could not read music, he had a beautiful voice and truly
enjoyed any chance he had to sing. Whether leading songs at church, or singing
with choirs for Christmas, or just whistling a tune while replacing the garbage
disposal, music was always a part of his day.
His repertoire extended from Charles Wesley to Kenny Rogers. From long days of listening to radio on the
farm, and long stretches of a.m. radio driving “home” to Minot or Glendive, we
were always amazed at the songs he knew.
He was truly the best partner for the Entertainment pie in Trivial
Pursuit.
And throughout all of Dad’s interests and hobbies, the real
love was the people he would meet and the ways he could connect to people
through discussions and shared interests.
Whether talking to Hilmar Albrecht in his wood shop, or listening to
bird calls with Harald Bliss, or herding sheep with Harlan Erickson, or singing
hymns in the onsen with Pastor Miyakawa, Dad loved the connections with
people. In September, when Dad was in
the hospital for 8 days, Mom and I would come in each morning and Dad would
have a story to tell about the conversation he had with the nurse, or the aide who
transported him, or the tech who took the x-ray, or the custodian who came in
at sunrise. He always found a way to
connect with everyone. Usually it was a
shared interest in something. “Sue lived
in Jordan, Montana for awhile” “Tom grew up on a farm and he drove an old
Oliver kind of like the one we had” “Mary’s granddaughter works in Rochester” It was a gift the way Dad could draw people
out and find a way to connect.
The last few days with Dad were difficult, but a true privilege
for me to be able to care for him as he had cared for others. He asked that I sing “And Can It Be” a few times in that last two weeks, and
asked that I send the words to most everyone who wrote or called in the days
when he was still talking, and so I think I will end this with that song. “All four verses” as he requested.
And
can it be that I should gain
an int'rest in the Savior's blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain?
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
an int'rest in the Savior's blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain?
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me.
He left His Father's throne above,
So free, so infinite His grace;
Emptied Himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam's helpless race;
'Tis mercy all, immense and free
For, O my God, it found out me.
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me.
Long my imprisoned spirit lay
Fast bound in sin and nature's night
Thine eye diffused a quick'ning ray,
I woke the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free;
I rose, went forth and followed Thee.
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me.
No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine!
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th'eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ alone.
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me.
3 comments:
Thank you for this reflection upon your dad's life and ministry. Although Helen and I did not get to visit your mom and dad as often as we would have liked, especially in these latter years, we have such fond memories of Dale and his love for the Lord and our fellowship in the ministry which began the same year 1973.
Uncle Paul
This is beautiful, Sara. Your Dad would be so pleased!
Thank you for a beautiful summary of Dale's life story. I'm sure so much more could be shared. The hymn at the close, so appropriate. We miss Dale and will cherish times we had together at seminary, and in ministry. Curtis and Kathy
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