Memories of Dad

Family memories of Dad
Dad was not a talker, he was a doer. After he hugged mom when he returned from work, she would tell him what had broken that day in our already 30 year old house, and he would head out to the garage to rummage up the right part and figure out how to make whatever “it” was keep working past the normal life span.

He loved to build and create things. He put lights in the bedrooms in of all our first homes (and second, and third, etc.) He loved working with wood in the garage with his power tools. He built furniture – desks, dressers, closets. I remember when I was in high school and needed to come up with a science project. He had been reading about Hydroponics where plants are grown without dirt. The roots dangle in water that is filled with nutrients. We remodeled our swing set as a green house and went to work. Long after I had completed my report and had lost interest in the project, he continued to grow plants with the hydroponics method. He also decided to experiment with an automatic chlorine maker for the pool. This led to copper in the pool which turned all blond heads into green heads. It also greenized his gray hair from time to time while he was taking his nightly swims. When he wanted to be warmer in the winter he decided to start making quilts (he had his own sewing machine) because he was cold and wanted thicker insulation on his – we all ended up making quilts for college on his machine with his help. He would set up the machine next to the ping pong table so he would have room to spread the big quilt out.

Shelley’s Memory: “One year I went to Education Week with Mom while Dad stayed at my house with my 5 kids for 5 days (ages 4- 11). I left a list of projects to do if he happened to have the time and inclination. When we pulled up at the house at the end of the week he was standing there with his suitcase, said good-bye, jumped in the car with Mom and drove off. I'm not sure how things went while I was gone, but the kids were alive and every project on the list was completed.”

Dad didn’t see the need for new clothes when the old ones could still fit. Since adults don’t grow out of their clothes, he saw no need for new clothes. Mom had other ideas about dressing her man though. She would take his outfits that she felt had paid their debt to society and hide them in the closet out in the pool house. Then if he missed them within three weeks, she would tell him that it was in the laundry and replace it back into his closet. If not, it would go to the DI. If she wanted him to have something really nice like a new suit, she would get the kids to contribute a pittance so that she could say that it was from us. That way he would feel guilty if he didn’t keep it and wear it.

We owned some older apartments once, and when I was 15 I spent a day helping him paint. I was covered with paint by the end of the day while he barely had a speck on him. He mused how a person could get more paint on their person than on the walls. On the way home he announced that I should drive. I had never been behind the wheel, but not to worry because he was a high school driving instructor. On my maiden trip, he made me drive on the freeway. I was a nervous wreck! When we got home he told me to pull the full sized station wagon into the garage. Somehow I managed to hit the side of the garage. Mom was mad at Dad for letting me drive like that on my first time. Dad didn’t say a word though. He simply got out, found his hammer, some nails, and put it back together.

Hiking and Camping:
The summer before my freshman year in high school we hiked up Mt Whitney with the Willmores and some friends. I thought I was going to die, it was so far. It was so cold at night that my contacts froze in their solution. but we had a great time following our dads up the mountain. He loved to hike and would take us up San Grogonio, and I remember hikes in Arizona and Southern Utah.

At the center of vacation memories was always the blue Ford van which he turned into a sleeping RV, with a hammock across the front two seats for Kent and Rex, and seats that he jimmy rigged to lay down flat for he and Mom and a plywood bunk bed over the top of them which was suspended on poles for all three girls to sleep on. Mom would call out “Don’t rock the boat” every time any one rolled over. Dad also changed the fuel tanks so that the van had an extra one for propane. He could change the fuel from regular gas to propane depending on if propane (the cheaper fuel) was available. When Mom complained about summer trips to Arizona without air conditioning, he added an air conditioner (which only reached the front seats!). As a consequence of the remodeling the van revolted at times and was often breaking down. Once we were on our way to visit relatives in Arizona when it kept overheating. It was still near 100 degrees in the middle of the moonless night and we would pull over and all get out to stand in cactus while it cooled down. Another time it broke down in Death Valley while we were vacationing again with relatives (Sherwoods and Simons). This time we squeezed 10 people into a Sedan for our trip back, leaving the van at a shop there.

Dad had 2 weeks off every summer and we saw much of the western United States and Canada on family vacations during these times. Dad loved to camp, so we rarely stayed in hotels. He loved to cook over campfires – I believe the most creative dinner was hotdogs wrapped in corn tortillas cooked over the open fire.

As adults, we hiked down the Grand Canyon together to reach our river rafting adventure. I remembered that he carried my back pack at the end, and returned to carry others. While floating down the Colorado River he kept reminding all of us to look up and see the beauty of the canyon walls.

Russ’s Memories:

“My best memories with Dahl are hikes that we took. I remember when we were rushing through the Zion's Narrows hike to make sure everyone made it through the canyon before it got dark. We stopped by a side canyon to eat lunch and then hiked another hour downstream before Dahl remembered leaving his camera at the side canyon. Dahl and I sent the others on ahead to stay on schedule and then hiked back to where we ate lunch. After retrieving the camera, we turned around and raced back down the canyon toward the others in the group. Hiking fast on any trail is tough, but Zion's Narrows with its deep cold water and slippery rocks is not meant to be rushed. We actually caught up to the rest of the group before they finished the hike (and with plenty of daylight to spare). Shelley still gives me a hard time about having rushed the hike too fast. I was very sore the next morning and ready to enjoy sleeping in, but Dahl got me up at the crack of dawn and insisted on hiking up Angel's Landing. In order to maintain my manhood and the illusion that I could keep up with my father-in-law on even the toughest hikes, I rolled out of my sleeping bag and climbed up Wally's Wiggles to the top of Angel's Landing. I always wondered where Dahl got the strength and energy to out hike men who were 30 years his junior! It must have been all that training in the Army!”

"After our famous Hike down the narrows we stopped for a much needed rest at the lodge. Russ and Dad were in the main area and Dad turned to go into the bathroom. Russ said, "Dahl, that is the Girls' Room," Dad nodded, smiled, waved his hand and proceeded to walk in anyway. Russ just stood there and waited. Dahl was back pretty quickly and sheepishly said, "Why didn't you tell me that was the girls' room?" Russ responded, "I did!" Of course he had not heard the helpful advice.”

Food was not to be wasted. He had grown up in the depression with 11 children and money always tight, so he knew the value of growing a garden and having fruit trees. He replaced most ornamental trees and shrubs with things that we could eat: oranges, guavas, cumquats, lemons, peaches, apricots, plums, and figs. He couldn’t bear to see anything wasted and would pick up fruit that looked a bit gone from the ground while the trees were yet loaded and enough to spare. We were all recipients of dried fruit and fruit leather. I thought he was crazy when he started drying oranges, but since then I have seen it take off in the retail world – who knew?

Dad was not a TV watcher when we were growing up, but he did read the newspaper daily and wasn’t bashful about writing the editor if he disagreed with the articles. He didn’t want to be part of the teacher’s union because they often supported causes that he did not ratify. He taught in the Compton School District which is in an area with many gangs. He witnessed murders at his school and once got beat up. Once he was so frustrated at his math class that he taught Shelley and I basic algebra while we were in grade school and then gave us his high school test. When we both passed, he felt justified in flunking most of his class.

He always tried to stay fit, eating sparingly and exercising. He would say, “If you don’t watch your waistline, no one else will either” and “The end doesn’t always justify the jeans." In warmer weather he had a nightly swim (we teased him about his white “moon tan”) and was good for a walk with Mom. I remember when I was little and sometimes couldn’t sleep; he would get me up and make me do pushups, evidently convinced that I hadn’t work hard enough to be tired. Like the rest of the Hatch’s he suffered from arthritis, but he stretched and exercised every day to abate the effects of the troublesome condition. He was always a strong, healthy, tough guy that would hug you so hard your eyes would about pop out. I knew he was slowing down when mom said he didn’t walk to take walks with her any more.

I always knew my dad was clean and worthy and that he had a testimony of the gospel and the atonement. Walking home from church when I was an early teenager, a little Yorkshire dog barked angrily as we crossed the sidewalk on his property. He was loud and obnoxious, but we weren't afraid of the tiny thing. Dad told me that opposition in life was like that, and that opposition to do the right thing would make a lot of noise, but that I shouldn't let that deter me from choosing the right. He was always a good example to his family in the way that he honored his priesthood.

On my last visit he bemoaned that his lack of hearing had held him back from truly being part of everyone’s lives. He said that he could handle not hearing or seeing, but he really missed not breathing. Dad got it wrong – he was very much a part of everyone’s life! It was apropos though that he hung on until Thanksgiving, which is our traditional time for family reunion, thus creating two reunions: one with his parents, siblings, and extended relatives on the other side and one with the many relatives that have gathered on this side. He would have wanted it that way!

Traci (Funeral address Nov. 2008)