I have no grandchildren and Anne’s seven grand-daughters do not know enough about me for me to put words in their mouths. So my son, Alex, will be the narrator of my story-my shill so to speak.
My Father, Jonathan Herbert Barber, was born in Brattleboro Vermont on October 1, 1939. He was delivered by Doctor Grace Burnett, who, as a woman, was a pioneer in her profession. His parents, Lester and Antoinette, took Dad home to the family farm in Townshend, Vermont, a small village that on a good day has 700 inhabitants. FYI: Dr. Burnett opened her practice in 1914 and by 1931 had delivered more than 3000 babies. I figure there were a lot of long, cold winters up there in the hills and small towns.
Dad told me that, besides his birth, other important events happened in 1939: the New York World’s Fair and the release of “Gone with the Wind, “The Wizard of Oz” and “Stage Coach” Then of course there was the start of WWII on Sept 1, 1939. I think he was putting me on when he told me he was shocked to hear Clark Gable say “Damn” on the big screen. On the other hand I was not surprised when he old me that his favorite part of the “Wiz” was when a house landed on the Wicked Witch of the West, flattening her. He always remembered those shiny red shoes sticking out toes up from under the house.
Dad, his parents and his baby sister, Alice, moved from the farm in mid-1943 to another part of Townshend where they lived one more year. Then the family moved permanently to Brattleboro in 1944. Dad attended grades K-12 there and graduated H.S. in 1957. He placed number five in his class and was voted “class brain” in the “Senior Superlatives.” He swore to me that he did not pay anyone off to achieve this vote. Dad graduated from the University of Vermont in1961 with a major in German and a minor in English. I once asked him “how come German?” He said that after flunking chemistry and getting low grades in physics and calculus, German was the only thing he could major in and still graduate in four years. It’s as good a reason as any.
After graduation he enlisted in the Army for three years. After much training, Dad became a Morse intercept operator and spent 25 months in the Canal Zone. From that tour he remembered mostly heat, rain and boring work. His main achievement was reading 185 books, being promoted to E-5 and getting his own room. Dad got out of the Army around his birthday in 1964 after learning that his father (my grandfather) was very ill. He died in Late October 1964 and Dad decided to stay in Brattleboro.
Dad worked for three years for the Experiment in International Living at a low-level job while living at home with his mother. He applied for a US government job and after a lengthy background check, including a polygraph , he received high-level clearances, and began working for the Government on his birthday in 1967. In 1969 he met my mother, Carolyn Barshinger, at work; they were married in 1970. A highlight of the marriage was, of course, my birth on 1/1/71. Dad told me several times that he was glad our birthdays come on the first of the month-that made them easy to remember. My mother was born on Friday the 13th of November in 1942.
During his 30-year career with the government, Dad served in Germany and Italy for nearly seven years. He called these his “hardship” tours. A traumatic and difficult time for both of us began on April 17, 1987, when my mother was killed in a car accident on the George Washington Parkway. Dad and I went on with our lives. I graduated from HS in 1989 and went to Rice University in Houston where I graduated in 1993. I have been in Houston ever since. Dad worked until he retired in early January 1998. He then worked parts of another six years doing contract work for the government.
He met Anne Radway during one of those jobs. As he used to say, one thing led to another and they were married in September 2009. Anne is the best thing that could have happened to Dad-he had been alone or 14 or 15 years when they met. For my part, she and I have hit if off. I wish I could have seen her more often while Dad was alive.
I asked Dad what he wanted to be remembered for. He said his two marriages and, counting military, his nearly forty years of government service. During that time he rose in the ranks-not fast enough he always said–and retired as a GS-15. His colleagues recognized him as an expert in his field, that of a reports officer. He tutored nearly 30 young officers and managed many other officers over the years. When he retired he received a mantle clock, a huge plaque and the lowest ranking certificate of service. He was disappointed in the latter, particularly as he had recommended others for higher awards. He eventually gave away the clock and decided against using the plaque as a doorstop. I have the certificate, the plaque, various performance awards, pins for service, some photos, various other documents and some posters celebrating the 50th anniversary of his agency,
Dad also said he wanted to be remembered as a funny guy, as the world’s oldest student of Italian (he started classes in 2007) and as a long-time member of the Vienna personal history writing group. He really enjoyed that group and looked forward to attending each session. He never did get around to putting his and Anne’s writings in some sort of book form. I have a whole file drawer of material.
shill – informal
An accomplice of a hawker, gambler, or swindler who acts as an enthusiastic customer to entice or encourage others. During a genealogy search several years ago, Anne and I stumbled across the grave of Dr. Burnett and her parents in a small cemetery in her birth town: Dummerston, Vt.