JR TOUGH

Jerry, like most people, has a list of familiar quotes that he often refers to in certain circumstances, but one quote in particular seems to be his personal mantra.  I say mantra, because he has held it sacred over the years applying it to a variety of personal situations.  He shares it often with family, friends, and employees delivering the quote with a smirk on his lips and a twinkle in his eye jokingly stating, “You have to be tough, if you’re going to be stupid.”

Now-a-days as of late, he uses this citation to describe himself choosing his labor intensive job of lumberjacking, or to jokingly inspire younger employees into staying in school! By no means is Jerry stupid, in fact he’s a lot smarter than he ever lets on.  I have observed a number of people as they underestimate his wisdom, especially when it comes to money and business.  Today I wish only to chit chat about the other half of his quote, “being tough!”  Being in JR’s presence even a short time watching him work, play, or crack nut shells with his bare man paw, one quickly becomes aware of how tough he really is.  Today I will recant, for your benefit, my epiphany of the fact.

When I first met Jerry, I was introduced to the remarkable fact that not only was he an amateur bull rider, but he had also independently travelled out to Wyoming following graduation to have his go at  Cody’s rodeo clown school.  Instantly, loving an adventure, I wanted to know more, and if this guy was for real!  With pride he shared various rodeo accounts and whipped out his prized cotton trophy, a blue jean shirt shredded at the ribs (by bull horns) covered in blood stains. Yes, he was definitely turning out to be the real deal!  Curiosity getting this feisty little cat fired up, we started dating.  The first few dates we didn’t really do anything out of the ordinary: bowling, pizza, movies, etc… Little did I know that our serene dating routine was about to change.

We had been dating almost a month now, and had made plans to spend a Saturday afternoon together.  He told me to wear warm clothes that I could get dirty because we would be outside.  Come to find out, we ended up at his dad’s muck farm cutting firewood. I KNOW, HE’S QUITE THE ROMANTIC! He says he was conducting an interview, I think he just wanted free labor-and I spoiled his plans.  You see my dad had always taught me that nobody wants to drag a dead mule around; a man needs another mule to work in a field side-by-side with him. Applying my Pop’s ridiculously romantic farm parable, I worked like a mule at Jerry’s side! I believe I swept him off his feet in that moment, simultaneously stealing his heart and earning his admiration!  Anyways, I enjoyed the challenge of attempting to keep up with him (which I have learned is impossible).  You can learn a lot about a person when you work side-by side!  I was pleasantly surprised not only was JR a hard worker, but he could also joke around and have fun while he worked!  Once again I thought to myself, “Is this guy for real?”

Well, we had been plugging away for a couple hours now, JR manning the chainsaw and I was busy loading the truck bed with a fresh cut cord of oak and elm firewood.   The truck bed almost chocked full, I spun to JR to say something irrelevant and I saw him kneel with a peculiar look on his face.  I was perplexed by the act, but witnessing no other outward signs to signify that he was hurt I quickly disregarded the moment.  He laughed at what I said, stood back up, and continued severing wood pieces from the fallen log.  Within a few minutes it became evident that JR was a little quieter and was now moving at a measured pace, remembering him down on one knee I decided to investigate the situation further.  It was obvious from the moment I started to move his direction he did not want me near.  His actions a dead giveaway that something was askew, I high-tailed it to his side!

As I approached, calculating why he was reluctant to allow me within view, it was then that I saw what he was so desperate to hide! His Carhart coverall pant leg was shredded to pieces. Yes, shredded!  My internal mama bear kicked in and I think I pushed the stubborn brute down to sit on a log. I needed to take a closer look.  THANK GOODNES THERE WAS NO BLOOD, but what I discovered when I pulled the khaki shreds to the side was not very reassuring! Upon seeing muscle and sinew inside his gapping leg hole I sarcastically joked, “You know most men just use a pocket knife to carve their girlfriend’s name into a tree, not a chainsaw and their leg.”  He laughed and still seemed outwardly unaffected by the incident.   I pleaded with him to seek medical attention with no success. Continuing to play it off as a miniscule accident, I was only able to convince him into stopping at his parent’s house.  So chainsaws, gas, and 3 and 1 oil loaded, we were off in a flash! Our extra hustle causing him to pale a bit in the face as we drove to their home.

Having never met his parents before (awkward way to meet I would say), I sat in awe for about  5 minutes realizing that Jerry was not going to tell them about his gapping leg that would surely rot and fall off!  So I literally had to tattle on this hard-headed stubborn brute of a man, much to my surprise both parents sprang into action.  They looked like firecrackers inside of a steel barrel as they gathered bandages and issued orders to each other.  I didn’t realize it at the moment, but later found out that they had had lots of practice with this sort of thing.  At this point I’m like a deer caught in headlights, once again thinking to myself, “Is this guy for real?”

This was just my first encounter with JR’s toughness, the enormity of his “toughness” still hidden from my knowledge.  Upon marrying him it didn’t take long for my naivety to dissipate! Shortly after our wedding day, his mother, Martha, started handing over important documents like his birth certificate.  One of the last things she passed over was a little blue book with his name and birthdate on the front cover.   As she passed it over she said in a very firm motherly voice, “Michele, I want you to know that over the years we have had to work hard to protect Jerry.” Suddenly the “Chariots of Fire” theme song floated through my mind, and I envisioned her passing the little blue book as if it was the treasured Olympic Torch.  I knew, just from her all-knowing tone and mannerisms, that this was a momentous moment, but literally had no clue as to why!

Later that night reviewing and filing the papers she  had shared with me earlier, the epiphany hit me like a steam engine train on a mountain track with no brakes! Inside this fragile little blue book were medical records with the dates he had received his juvenile shots and detailed doctor’s notes reporting his medical history.  Listed were MULTIPLE medical catastrophe accounts of this new charge in my life! Here are just a few to create a picture of what kind of events collaborated to build Jerry’s toughness and cause such worry for his parents:

·         Front teeth knocked out by truck’s front bumper (go-cart accident at age 3!)

·         While riding bike hit by drunk driver. (age 8)

·         Broken nose (listed three different times throughout his first 18 years of life)

·         Stiches (too many to count)

·         Nose surgery

And of course, my personal favorite...

·         Bitten by raccoon, raccoon died!

I quickly learned that his mom had spoken openly and honestly about Jerry the day that the safekeeping torch was passed.  Luckily, his leg healed leaving only a scar as damage, but we have made MULTIPLE visits to the ER in the last fourteen years of our marriage.  I guess I did find that ADVENTURE I was seeking; HIS NAME IS JERRY and he is for real!  Being JR’s wife I often have to borrow his beloved quote adding my own little good-humored twist, “If you are going to be Jerry’s wife, you are going to have to be tough!”