Robert LeRoy Craig (1910-1968)

Kind, Gentle Warm, Understanding with enduring enthusiasm and determination.

Dad once spoke of working in the Coal Mines in his teenage years for 38 cents a day. This may go a way to explain his patience and determination to see things through to the finish - often with little reward.

I remember him in many ways - too numerous here to mention.

It was a privileged for me to have had the opportunity to work with dad on the job and one or two days in the most adverse of conditions talked about here might be the easiest way to recall for you just who LeRoy Craig was as a man.

The winters in Pennsylvania were at times quite severe. Weather conditions that would deter most of us from even going to work in the world of 2002 never kept dad from the job. I shall use one or two of these events here. It was sun-up and time to get ready for work. I don't know the exact day or year but it must have been the early 1960s. One look out the window revealed that there had been an awesome snow storm the night before. The car would have to be dug out, its roof barely viable as I peered out of the frosted over windows of the kitchen. I decided that it would be best to shovel the snow first then eat breakfast. I would then change into my warmer dry work clothes so as to take on the day.

I was just pushing my plate aside when I heard the snow plow pass by the house. Upon revisiting the kitchen window I could see that all my efforts at snow removal had just been completely un-done. I decided to put my work clothes on before going out again. On my way back in from the first shoveling experience I couldn't help but notice that the thermometer on the porch post hovered about as far down as was mechanically possible. The lowest position was about - 30 degrees. The fine snow I had shoveled and pushed aside earlier along with the squeaking sounds my boots made earlier confirmed what the thermometer had indicated was fact. It was well below zero. It may have not been -30, but it wasn't far from it. The wind was picking up and by the time we got in the car one couldn't even tell that the road had been plowed. We lived in Dixonville and worked at Pyrofax Gas in Indiana, PA. That was about 14 miles. It was doubtful that the roads would be plowed all the way there so we decided that it might be best to put the chains on the tires before starting rather than risking getting stuck and then having to do so.

Driving was slow and even though we had left 45 minutes earlier than usual we arrived at the dispatch office on time. Dad was always on time. He didn't seem to make a special effort to do so but I cannot recall a single time he wasn't were he wanted to be except that it was on time. It was a natural attribute of his. Mr. Beuheight told us to work together in that the going would be difficult. We left the office in Indiana and drove to the plant where the trucks were parked -outside and covered with snow. The old International tank truck would be difficult to start in this cold and as we approached it there seemed to be a look of defiance emanating from it's half covered hood. Dad finally got the Ford started and I only tried to start the International a couple of times knowing that it had no intentions of starting on its own. Saving the battery, I waited for Dad to pull around in front so as to connect the jumper cables. After this was done it still refused to start. As it turned out, Dad had to pull back around and back up so as to hook up the towing chains and try to start it that way. He pulled me out of the plant and to the road and was starting to pick up speed when the chain snapped. This was a very heavy chain and it was so cold that the chain snapped! We had used this chain a number of times and this was the first and only time that it had ever broken. We re-maneuvered and reattached the chain and tried again. Finally, after a time, the old truck started and after some resistance began its muffled purr back to life. The chains were already on her from the previous day and after returning the other truck to the plant we were soon on our way.

We only had one delivery with the tank truck and that was to the Leuserne Mines near Homercity They used massive burners (designed and built by dad) to thaw the undercarriages of Coal Railroad Cars so they could dump the coal that fired the boilers - which in turn produced electricity. The trip was uneventful except for stopping a couple of times to clear the snow away from the radiator of the truck. The snow was so deep in drifted areas that it was not only difficult to see, but the front of the truck acted as a snow plow and the result was a clogging of the grill on the front. This was to be the easiest part of our day. We had to return to the plant and park the tanker and get in the other truck loaded with about 20 or so cylinders of LP Gas and do our best to deliver them.

Never even considering failure to accomplish our task ahead, we started with the will to make every delivery as scheduled. I will walk through one such delivery which I believe offers the best example of the kind of will dad, and me by his example, had. There was this one delivery that was about as far off the beaten path as one could imagine. Not only was it a long and desolate road back from "nowhere", but the home we were going to was at the end of a long drifted path. There was not evidence anywhere that anyone but us was on the road. Indeed, the one stretch of road just before the entrance to this lane, was fraught with its own challenges. Many times we would take a run at a hill or snow drift and go as far as possible. When the truck would come to a stop and the back wheels would begin to spin so as to bog down. We would stop, put it into reverse, and while leaning out the door, would back the truck up and re-try. Each such effort would eventually get us through only to have to repeat this over and over, sometimes having to get out and shovel the snow from beneath the truck and wheels so as to even be able to back up for another run. It was at the end on one such endeavor that dad told me that it was my turn to drive. As incredible as it seemed that he would ask me to drive in such a situation, the youth in me at the time caused excitement to warm my spirits. The snow that we had tracked in to the truck had covered the floor-board until it was its own icy challenge and I nearly slipped and fell as I chimed into the cab. I remember him telling me that once you commit to driving up the lane don't hesitate but keep it moving. As it turned out it took us four tries to get up the first hill on this narrow, drifted country lane. I only got stuck on two of the four tries and with his encouragement the last try was successful and we made it though and nearly bounced to a stop in front of the farm house. I did get a lecture about how I shouldn't have stopped where I did. It would be necessary to have to back up in the tracks we had just made and get a running start again so as to be able to drive up and around a circular drive enabling us to leave. The truck was overheating because the grill was once again clogged so we attended to that, shoveled some snow away from the back of the truck and then began what seems now to have been an impossible task. Dad dropped the LP gas tank off the back of the truck and made the observation that it would be useless for us to use the hand-truck to move the cylinder. He said that we would just get on both sides of it and pull it along on the snow. That sounds simple. However, the pulling would be up about ten steps and then a long gradual slope up to the back of the house. It seems that it was about sixty or so yards to where we needed to go. It felt like a mile. Both of us falling down a number of times. The warmth of our breath froze on the collars of our coats. We were sweating from the effort and the whipping of the wind ripped through the layers of clothes we were wearing causing us to chill. Back in the truck it took us about four tries breaking a path so as to get turned and back on the lane that would return us to the road. And, in short, we made all of our deliveries that day in much the same way.

Officially dad was considered a service technician for the Pyrofax Gas company. Realistically, he did it all. In repairing things he leaned more to exactly that. He would take it apart and repair it rather than simply replacing something. It didn't matter if it were a gas regulator, a gas stove, refrigerator or a heating plant. If something wasn't working as it should, - he would adjust or repair it. Today, we would just get a new one.

Robert LeRoy Craig died at 58 years old. The occasion was one of those situations that would have most of us recovering at home. He was at work installing a gas furnace in a church. He wasn't feeling well and went to the doctor. He was diagnosed as having the flue. He was told to go home and take medicine for a couple of days. Instead, dad returned to work the next day to finish installing the furnace so Sunday services could go on as scheduled. It turned out that he didn't have the flue but a heart attack - Massive in that he continued working after the first symptoms led him to the doctor. Dad died on the day after Christmas in 1968. It don't seem to me that it has been that long ago until I think about it. His kind of determination to see the job through seemed to die with him. Even in his day dad was a man that stood alone in the kind of person he was. . . .