Dan Sr.

Most boys have had the age-old debate with their friends, “My Dad can beat up your Dad.”  I heard this debate many times during my childhood.  I was never part of this debate though.  Why?  Because my friends knew my Dad and didn’t want to step into the arena knowing who I would be defending.  Instead, we would debate Chuck Norris, Bruce Lee, and Arnold Schwarzenegger.

My Dad was tough in every sense of the word.  When he was a boy, he was given the responsibilities of taking care of the family farm before and after school.  He was the oldest of six and shouldered the responsibility of taking care of his younger siblings.  As a teenager and young man, he led a wild life.  He had plenty of stories to keep us entertained and in awe that one man could live so much.

As I grew up, I watched Dad protect and provide for his family.  We may have done without luxury.  However, we always had a roof over our heads, food on the table, and a safe loving home.  Dad simply did not miss work.  There was a time when he was bleeding internally and the doctors couldn’t diagnose the cause.  What did Dad do?  He took a job at a convenience store working overnights because he was too sick to continue as an auto mechanic.  He did not quit.

We had many ups and downs.  However, his family was always loved.  When we didn’t have the money for a second car, Dad rode his motorcycle.  We got to be cool.  Getting dropped off at school on a motorcycle got everyone’s attention.  It wasn’t until years later that I realized he had to ride it in the ice and snow. (I know he enjoyed riding it, but that couldn’t have been fun.)

Dad made sure our needs were met so Mom could be home with my brother, sister, and I.  We knew someone was there when we came home from school.  Our home was where other kids felt safe and loved.  Our friends were always welcome.  My sister, Candy, talks about the “sea of boys” in the living room floor when she would wake up to watch Saturday morning cartoons.  Our home was a safe place for all of us.

Dad was one of those guys you instinctively knew not to cross.  He had this look that struck fear into its recipient.  The look said, “You have crossed a line and you better step back.” Intimidating?  You better believe it.   As I reflect though, the only times I saw this look were times where there were threats to the safety and well-being of his family.

Those of us who had the privilege of being in Dan Turner Sr’s inner circle of friends and family know we are blessed.  Those who were outside of that circle really missed out on something special.  The man loved his family fearlessly, intensely, and openly.  He gave us stories laced with wisdom and humor.  He challenged us to be the best version of ourselves.  He loved us; and it showed.

We said, “good bye” to him two years ago today.  He fought all the way until the end.  He fought disease until he knew his grand kids knew him and would remember him.  He fought to make sure Mom was taken care of.  Once he knew his family was safe and cared for, he encouraged us in the Lord because he knew he had won the fight and he had finished his race.

My given name is Danny.  So, family and those who have been friends long enough to be family, still call me that even though I have gone by Dan since the sixth grade.  One old friend said, “I just think of your Dad when I hear Dan.” I answered, “Yeah, me too.”