Garnett Jethro (G.J.) Dye is Harold's father. He was the designer/inventor of what he called a Radio Aerial Torpedo, or Radio Controlled Flying Bomb. Today, we'd call it a missile.
Patent number: 1376192
Filing date: Nov 8, 1918
Issue date: Apr 26, 1921
Inventor: G. J. DYE
This is a poem, written by Harold, for William Mercer Dye (4/1/1920 - 6/30/2003), on the occasion of Mercer's 80th birthday in April, 2000.
William Mercer Dye April 1, 1920
William Mercer was born
into a remarkable family.
With a loving, unflappable mother
nobly serving as arbitrator.
Bringing wonderful clarity and love
into what might otherwise have been
a common brawl.
And father –
an architectural engineering genius,
who carried the family through the terrors
of the great depression.
Sometimes calmly,- sometimes with exuberance ,
associated with shouting, and yelling,
and high blood pressure.
Always calmed by - “Now, Garnett, now Garnett,”
and the oldest brother, Jethro,. so aptly named
after that great man of the Bible,
who even told Moses, the father of the Hebrews,
how to get things done.
But that was mere practice
for what lay in store for the oldest son,
telling and showing nine thousand grease-ball mechanics
how to keep a great airline going.
Then there was Inez,
the only girl.
And what a girl!
With Mama and Father keeping
the family clothed and fed,
Inez became the arbiter of manners and social graces.
A quick kick to the shins, while learning to dance
was a graceful way to teach the foot with which to lead;
and grammar too, and politeness,
oh how painful it could be.
A milk bottle - half full - gracefully thrown
at ninety miles per hour.
A strike on the side of Jethro’s head -
but a mere inch, one way or another,
and the man who made Delta
would be pushing up daisies instead.
We got Jethro to Grady, blood and all.
The doctor took one look and asked,
“What happened?” Which led to the only lie our
saintly mother ever told,
“He was hit by a valve lifter spring
getting loose from the automobile engine
he was working on in the kitchen.”
After that she said, “Will he live?”
Then came Harold,
named after the hero of the Christian world,
The man who won the “Battle of Tours.”
But Mama and Father didn’t know that.
They just liked the name.
Harold was the temperate boy.
He only attempted murder once
before reaching seven.
But what would you expect
from a shy, quiet wallflower?
The favored one for only two years.
Then came William Mercer,
and Harold was delegated to the back stage.
An older, genius brother - an only sister,
and now a squalling baby brother
named William Mercer;
Mercer, after a country doctor
in a town called Dothan.
“For I heard them say, let us go to Dothan.”.
But Mercer had an uneventful first few years.
Nearly terminated on several occasions
by chickenpox, measles, mumps
and the family goat,
which Jethro had taught to pull a wagon.
And Jethro wasn’t tender in his teaching,
so the goat was mean.
Then we saw a silent moving picture
in Roberta, Georgia - a bull fight
So Jethro taught the goat to be a bull.
The training went well until
William Mercer came out the back door
with his new red pants,
the first new pants he ever had,
which of course, was resented by the goat.
Wham!
William Mercer was down for the count,
and the goat wasn’t going to a neutral corner.
Harold hit the goat with a baseball bat
which only infuriated the goat.
Jethro, finally pulled the goat off,
with some of William Mercer’s pants
hanging on his horns.
That’s when we dropped the name William.
Mama came rushing out; grabbed Mercer, and
“Knew the Truth,”
leaving Jethro to hold the goat
and Harold to yell - which was the smart thing to do.
A Gypsy came by and bought the goat, on the spot.
We all got invited to the Gypsy’s goat feast.
But, mama wouldn’t let us go.
Mercer didn’t want to.
But Mercer grew up. For one thing
it was natural and another, it was necessary.
He was the baby – all the way
and Mama and Father had used themselves up
on the first three. But think about it –
with all that tender loving care Mercer had to succeed.
And there is evidence that he did -
Three wonderful sons.
Very similar to himself and his brothers -
Thousands of friends - everywhere,
and above all, a mother and father in heaven
who can look down and say with pride:,
That’s our son! Well done!
