My dad, Ernie Schaak, would have been 85 today if he were still alive.

I had the pleasure of helping my dad create his memoir, No Name Montana Boy. I “dragged out the process” as it allowed quality time with my dad. There was some tears, lots of laughter, and sometimes we laughed so hard we cried.

Even though part of me cringes because technically it’s not the greatest book—widows, orphans, and a serious need for more editing—the book has so much heart and love. That I am very proud of.

Working with my dad as he wrote his book allowed us to connect on a heart-to-heart level that we never had had before. Hearing the stories of his life from his point-of-view was priceless.

On Friday, June 27, 1924 Ernest Robert joined the Schaak family in Havre, Montana. He was known to family and friends as “Ernie.” When dad was six and a half years-old, early on New Year’s Day, his mother passed on from medical complications. Raised on a farm, there was always more work than time.

Dad always saw the silver lining. He had to repeat first grade because he missed the first six weeks and was unable to make it up. Some kids would have let this cripple them for life. Not my dad. He told me, “This gave me a strong foundation in reading and arithmetic.” Usefull skills when later he worked with teacher and students.

He dropped out of high school for six years to work on the family farm, so he was 23 when he finally graduated. That’s where he met my mom, Bernice, and they were married on July 19, 1950. They lost two premie sons before they adopted me in 1954.

Dad was always telling me, “Never say never, because it will happen.” Found out he and mom had traveled though Glendive and agreed that they never wanted to live there. Guess what? The Divine cosmic joke—his first job teaching was in Glendive Montana.  As I write this – what a great example of the power of words and what you focus on.

We moved to Bozeman, Montana so dad could teach grades 5-8 in a two room school. In 1957 he was promoted to youth leader and education superintendent for a parochial school system. Dad extensively traveled the state of Montana visiting schools, working with school boards, even preaching a sermon or two. He did the same when we lived in Boise, Idaho and Spokane, Washington. After dad’s retirement in 1989 his favorite saying was, “I’m not retired, I’m a retread.”

Every summer our family was at a summer camp where dad was camp director. He so enjoyed the outdoors; camping; back packing in the Crazy Mountains, Spanish Peaks and Grand Tetons; hiking to the top of the mountain to see the expansive view. Many days were spent learning about plants, animals, stars, and rocks—omg, his rock collection.

During his travels he also collected sand, postcards, stamps, leaves, flowers, coins, and even toilet paper samples from Europe. The best collection however, was his friends and acquaintances.

Dad had a great sense of humor. In answer to my question, “Are you napping?” He would answer “No, I’m just checking my eyelids for leaks.”

Gardening was his passion. Every year he was so proud of how early he planted, how many volunteer plants had sprouted, and how big the sunflowers were. When I would go visit my parents, Dad would hug me, welcome me and say, “Let me show you my garden.” Perhaps he saw the plants as children?

Dad loved to pick cherries, sing, play horse shoes, and drive his car. He was happiest when he was in his car driving somewhere, anywhere. He almost always wore a hat. His favorite said, “It’s never too late for an early childhood.”

I’ve never known my dad with hair, as he started going bald at age 18. Imagine my surprise and delight to find a pic of him with an almost full head of hair. Of course, it made it into his book!

One of dad’s special talents was to pick out crisp, red, juicy, sweet, and flavorful watermelon. It came so natural and easy for him. He was so pleased to be asked to bring watermelon to potlucks and family dinners.

I nicknamed him “Mr. Chatty Cathy” because he was always talking to someone, even when it wasn’t timely. When I was little, we took the train from Montana to Michigan to pick up a new car from the factory. He was so busy talking that he missed the announcement stating that we needed to change cars as the one we were riding in was being disconnected from the train. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy with me interrupting his conversation when I insisted we had to move, and move NOW. As we stepped into the correct car, the train started to move.

Another time dad and I were flying into El Paso, Texas to visit some relatives who lived in southern New Mexico. We had to change planes, and concourses,  in Salt Lake City. No problem, there was plenty of time so both of us headed to the restroom upon deplaning. Twenty minutes later, he still hasn’t come out. Worried that he might have fallen and/or was having problems, I asked a gentleman to see if he could find my dad. Moments later, out came dad with a sheepish grin. He’d been talking to some nice man—oh, of course he was.

Dad loved people and over the decades he stayed connected with many of them. His first year of teaching there was a first grader named Renée. She is who I am named after, without the straight A’s. Over the decades, their friendship grew. At the end, she was the charge nurse who took care of him the final 10 days of his life, a True Angel.

Dad knew his life here on earth meant something and he had fulfilled what he came here to do. This is a copy of the letter I faxed to the nursing home and had read to him a few days before he passed.

Dear Dad
Know that I love you very much. And that I’m proud to have you as my dad. Chose you pretty well, didn’t I ???!!!

I’m coming to Spokane this weekend. If you choose to still be on this earth plane, it’ll be great to see you. If you choose to pass on to the next phase of your life, that too is great. Either way, please do what’s best for you.

You and I have had many amazing times and created great memories.

Thank you for letting me help you with your book. It was awesome to spend that quality time with you. Thank you for creating the space for that to happen.

You are always generous with your time and caring spirit and have touched and impacted so many people’s lives.

I’m proud to tell everyone I’m your daughter. When people, who know you, find out that you are my dad, they tell me how wonderful you are and how much they love you. Makes my buttons pop—yuppers—that great man is MY DAD!!

Thank you for providing me a great childhood. Thank you for being consistent. Thank you for being the amazing human being that you are!!

Love your daughter, Renée

Ernie Schaak was 83 years young when he passed on Friday, April 13, 2007.

Who in your life needs to hear from you how much you care?