My father was a man I both admired and was fascinated by. I was born when he was 41 years old, and so missed the first half of his life - with various paths that led him to achieve a level of notoriety in semipro baseball, get drafted into the Korean War, and pursue a career (with family in tow) that took him across the sea to reside for a few years in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia and Lahore, Pakistan.
By the time I came along, the family had settled in the smallish midwestern town of Waterloo, IA, where he served for 24 years as an elementary school principal. That second stage of his life, where he touched thousands of young lives and commanded a respect that resulted in him being known as "Mr. Hylton" to all but his nuclear family, represented the man I knew as "dad." After retirement, he re-invented himself, transforming from the role of disciplinarian to jolly grandfather who exuded devotion and interest in his grandchildren with his every act.
I was always fascinated by that earlier, amazing time of his life, though, where he was seemingly bold, adventurous, and full of piss and vinegar; not the stolid and steady patriarch I knew in my youth. Fascinated to the extent that I actually recorded two 45 minute interviews with him for NPR's "National Day of Listening," about a year ago that are avabilable for download on the wold wide web. I am so glad now that I did this.
Coming from an avowed liberal peacenik this might seem odd, but I am very gratified and proud that dad will be buried with military honors, which includes a color guard, flag-draped coffin, taps, and, I believe, even a five-gun salute. He did not ask to be drafted into the service fresh out of high school, torn away from a budding baseball career and plans for college, and forced to move with his young wife and newborn daughter to a one-bedroom apartment just outside Fort Benning, GA. But he served wtih honor, and it was something that he appreciated more and more, the older he got. It's that part of the visitation/service/internment that will be hardest for me - the part with the formal military send-off; but something that's going to about the most likely piece of this experience to be able to push my psyche into processing it all a little bit. I'm certainly not there yet.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Details of My Dad's Passing
Thanks for offers of support so far. Below is the obituary that will be appearing in various papers, followed by a brief biography we "kids" wrote that will be appearing in a program at the visitation.
OBITUARY FOR: Jack Hylton
Age: 79
Address: 512 Olympic Dr., Waterloo, IA 50702
Died at: his home.
Day, Date of Death: Thursday, August 13, 2009
Date of Birth: December 15, 1929
Place of Birth: Dunlap, Kan.
Parents: Harvey and Pauline (Jenkins) Hylton
Marriage Info: married Lois Groom on May 20, 1951, in Council Grove, Kan.
Education: graduated from Council Grove High School in 1947 and received his BA and MA at Emporia State University in Emporia, Kan.
Occupation: educator for 41 years, including 24 years as a principal for the Waterloo Community School District. He was also a principal in Jidda, Saudi Arabia, for the Parents Cooperative School System of TWA and in Lahore, Pakistan.
Military: served in the United States Army for the Headquarters Division at Fort Benning, Ga.
Organizations: Member and former Board member at First United Methodist Church.
Activities: American Legion and semipro baseball in Kansas; coached and refereed multiple levels of adult and youth sports throughout Kansas.
Survivors: Wife: Lois Hylton, Waterloo, Iowa
Daughter: Laura (John) Allen, Marion, Iowa
Son: Lindon Hylton, Madras, Ore.
Son: Sean (Amy) Hylton, Cedar Falls, Iowa
Son: Dan (Sharon) Hylton, Minneapolis, Minn.
8 grandchildren: Neil & Natalie Allen, Marion, Iowa
Taylor & Jared Hylton, Cedar Falls, Iowa
Cody (Kiara) Hylton, Portland, Ore.
Zane Hylton, Corvalis, Ore.
Lucy & Rose Hylton, Minneapolis, Minn.
Sister: Jill (Eldon) Fitzgerald, Council Grove, Kan.
Preceded by: parents, and grandson Matthew John Allen
Services: 1:30 p.m., Tuesday, at First United Methodist Church in Waterloo
Burial: Memorial Park Cemetery
Visitation: 4-7 p.m. Monday, August 17, 2009, at Locke Funeral Home in Waterloo
Memorials: to the church or Cedar Valley Hospice
Condolences may be left at www.LockeFuneralHome.com
on the cover:
He put His arms around him and whispered "come with me"
on the inside:
God saw that he was getting tired
And a cure was not to be,
So He put His arms around him
and whispered "come with me."
With tearful eyes we watched,
Suffered and saw him fade away.
Although we loved him dearly
We could not make him stay.
A golden heart stopped beating,
Hard working hands to rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He only takes the best.
bio for the back cover:
To the casual eye, Jack Hylton was a man molded to be a principal. A hard-working educator for 41 years -- including 24 at Waterloo schools named Kittrell, Whittier and Emerson -- it was in Jack's nature to obsess about about the small details and tiny souls that filled his hallways every school year. A hands-on principal who gave more than his share of hours to the job, Jack made elementary school a well-rounded experience -- academics, after-school basketball clinics, even pizza parties and ballgames for chair crews. His job started in Kansas and took him to far-away lands like Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, and walked hand-in-hand with his love of sports, coaching and refereeing. However, Jack's role as a principal wasn't his ultimate calling. Instead, Jack saved his best for the end of the day. A loving husband, dad and grandfather, Jack was a man who gave his true devotion to his family by serving as a perfect model for a life lived with love, integrity, accountability, compassion and faith.
OBITUARY FOR: Jack Hylton
Age: 79
Address: 512 Olympic Dr., Waterloo, IA 50702
Died at: his home.
Day, Date of Death: Thursday, August 13, 2009
Date of Birth: December 15, 1929
Place of Birth: Dunlap, Kan.
Parents: Harvey and Pauline (Jenkins) Hylton
Marriage Info: married Lois Groom on May 20, 1951, in Council Grove, Kan.
Education: graduated from Council Grove High School in 1947 and received his BA and MA at Emporia State University in Emporia, Kan.
Occupation: educator for 41 years, including 24 years as a principal for the Waterloo Community School District. He was also a principal in Jidda, Saudi Arabia, for the Parents Cooperative School System of TWA and in Lahore, Pakistan.
Military: served in the United States Army for the Headquarters Division at Fort Benning, Ga.
Organizations: Member and former Board member at First United Methodist Church.
Activities: American Legion and semipro baseball in Kansas; coached and refereed multiple levels of adult and youth sports throughout Kansas.
Survivors: Wife: Lois Hylton, Waterloo, Iowa
Daughter: Laura (John) Allen, Marion, Iowa
Son: Lindon Hylton, Madras, Ore.
Son: Sean (Amy) Hylton, Cedar Falls, Iowa
Son: Dan (Sharon) Hylton, Minneapolis, Minn.
8 grandchildren: Neil & Natalie Allen, Marion, Iowa
Taylor & Jared Hylton, Cedar Falls, Iowa
Cody (Kiara) Hylton, Portland, Ore.
Zane Hylton, Corvalis, Ore.
Lucy & Rose Hylton, Minneapolis, Minn.
Sister: Jill (Eldon) Fitzgerald, Council Grove, Kan.
Preceded by: parents, and grandson Matthew John Allen
Services: 1:30 p.m., Tuesday, at First United Methodist Church in Waterloo
Burial: Memorial Park Cemetery
Visitation: 4-7 p.m. Monday, August 17, 2009, at Locke Funeral Home in Waterloo
Memorials: to the church or Cedar Valley Hospice
Condolences may be left at www.LockeFuneralHome.com
on the cover:
He put His arms around him and whispered "come with me"
on the inside:
God saw that he was getting tired
And a cure was not to be,
So He put His arms around him
and whispered "come with me."
With tearful eyes we watched,
Suffered and saw him fade away.
Although we loved him dearly
We could not make him stay.
A golden heart stopped beating,
Hard working hands to rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He only takes the best.
bio for the back cover:
To the casual eye, Jack Hylton was a man molded to be a principal. A hard-working educator for 41 years -- including 24 at Waterloo schools named Kittrell, Whittier and Emerson -- it was in Jack's nature to obsess about about the small details and tiny souls that filled his hallways every school year. A hands-on principal who gave more than his share of hours to the job, Jack made elementary school a well-rounded experience -- academics, after-school basketball clinics, even pizza parties and ballgames for chair crews. His job started in Kansas and took him to far-away lands like Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, and walked hand-in-hand with his love of sports, coaching and refereeing. However, Jack's role as a principal wasn't his ultimate calling. Instead, Jack saved his best for the end of the day. A loving husband, dad and grandfather, Jack was a man who gave his true devotion to his family by serving as a perfect model for a life lived with love, integrity, accountability, compassion and faith.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Next Up, My Brain
I've made a living as a "my life is an open book" type of guy, so why stop now?
After years of lamentations on an aimless "career" path, and then subsequent entry into a nonprofit field at a job in my neighborhood (yada yada - you know the song & dance - I'm suddenly the luckiest guy in the world), you'd think everything was wrapped up in a nice little bow, huh?
Well...the fact of the matter is that I am fucked up.
I can dig down a lot deeper (and have, in many conversations with Sharon in recent months), but on the surface - this appear to be the case:
In my early 20s, I was an emotional rock. Not in the stoic sense, but in the "life rolled off my back" sense. I had no crappy jobs, no prospects, next to no money, and few cares in the world. Over the years (and this is probably no rare thing), as I added cares and burdens of one sort or another, my emotional and psychological state has gotten increasingly more fragile. Particularly, in the past couple of years, I have found that going from "here" (calm, everything's OK) to "there" (I'm losing it) is as simple as a minor setback, and that my highs (and though I can still have highs, and find enjoyment in life) are less high, and my lows lower and longer-lasting, often accompanied by a feeling of despair. My "resting place" is at a general level of mild malaise, and it is almost like a fixed point to which I am tethered, and unable to fully escape. Very, very un-Dan like, the way I think of most of you knowing Dan. I am not myself.
I had some dark, dark moments last mid-summer (like, curling up on the ground dark moments) but, for the most part, things have really been at another level since the layoff last spring. It's not hard to trace the series of factors that have likely contributed in recent times, since I have been subject to a very identifiable and continuing barrage of stresses. There was not having a job, obviously - for which I bore the brunt of stress on behalf of my four-person family. Then there was/is the stress of a new job with not a single day of relaxation between job-search and new-job modes (it has been suggested by Sharon that there is actually a clinical term for this condition, called "adjustment disorder"). And, of course, all along - the declining health of my father. Sharon has actually coined a somewhat less clinical term to encompass the breadth of these, and other, of life's stresses (kids, other obligations); referring to my "ambient stress level."
Whatever it is, and whatever it's called, it's real.
And the fanciful notion of the "Dan Day" (relaxing day biking about town, relaxing in the coffee shop, and taking care of myself) being a cure-all has long since passed. As a wise man once said, "I feel like butter, scraped over too much bread." But I need more than a holiday. And I'm actually going in for psychological counseling two weeks from today.
Some other thoughts and considerations related to this topic are a little touchy to go into in this forum (even for me!), but I'm happy to talk more by phone or whatnot, one on one.
After years of lamentations on an aimless "career" path, and then subsequent entry into a nonprofit field at a job in my neighborhood (yada yada - you know the song & dance - I'm suddenly the luckiest guy in the world), you'd think everything was wrapped up in a nice little bow, huh?
Well...the fact of the matter is that I am fucked up.
I can dig down a lot deeper (and have, in many conversations with Sharon in recent months), but on the surface - this appear to be the case:
In my early 20s, I was an emotional rock. Not in the stoic sense, but in the "life rolled off my back" sense. I had no crappy jobs, no prospects, next to no money, and few cares in the world. Over the years (and this is probably no rare thing), as I added cares and burdens of one sort or another, my emotional and psychological state has gotten increasingly more fragile. Particularly, in the past couple of years, I have found that going from "here" (calm, everything's OK) to "there" (I'm losing it) is as simple as a minor setback, and that my highs (and though I can still have highs, and find enjoyment in life) are less high, and my lows lower and longer-lasting, often accompanied by a feeling of despair. My "resting place" is at a general level of mild malaise, and it is almost like a fixed point to which I am tethered, and unable to fully escape. Very, very un-Dan like, the way I think of most of you knowing Dan. I am not myself.
I had some dark, dark moments last mid-summer (like, curling up on the ground dark moments) but, for the most part, things have really been at another level since the layoff last spring. It's not hard to trace the series of factors that have likely contributed in recent times, since I have been subject to a very identifiable and continuing barrage of stresses. There was not having a job, obviously - for which I bore the brunt of stress on behalf of my four-person family. Then there was/is the stress of a new job with not a single day of relaxation between job-search and new-job modes (it has been suggested by Sharon that there is actually a clinical term for this condition, called "adjustment disorder"). And, of course, all along - the declining health of my father. Sharon has actually coined a somewhat less clinical term to encompass the breadth of these, and other, of life's stresses (kids, other obligations); referring to my "ambient stress level."
Whatever it is, and whatever it's called, it's real.
And the fanciful notion of the "Dan Day" (relaxing day biking about town, relaxing in the coffee shop, and taking care of myself) being a cure-all has long since passed. As a wise man once said, "I feel like butter, scraped over too much bread." But I need more than a holiday. And I'm actually going in for psychological counseling two weeks from today.
Some other thoughts and considerations related to this topic are a little touchy to go into in this forum (even for me!), but I'm happy to talk more by phone or whatnot, one on one.
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