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My Daddy:In the small little town of Kiowa, Kansas, on December 21, 1926, Delbert Lee Hood was born. He grew up with strong family values and was loved by all that knew him. He served the U.S. Navy in the Korean war. He married Patricia Hurse on January 10, 1953. Into that union were born three children. Two daughters, Catherine Marie and Carol Ann. His only son, David Michael passed away when he was only 13 days old. Our family lived in Westchester, California for many years. My father was a kind, loving soul who often was nicknamed "Tall Drink Of Water". Standing 6'4" tall he was the highlight of my life. He would often go to the store for my mother and be gone for hours because he would start conversations with everyone he met and knew. He was a gifted and spiritual person. There was nothing he could not, make, build or put together, except my mothers Koo-Koo clock that he took apart because he wanted to see how it worked. He never got the darn thing to work again. He could build a house, brick work, rock work and was a master at fixing cars. Every morning you could hear him singing the "Old Rugged Cross" while in the shower. His voice would carry through out the whole house. One of his favorite hobbies was fishing. He did not get much time off from work, but when he did, he would go fishing. He loved it. We would also go on a family vacation from time to time. Those vacations and being with my family are some of my happiest memories of my childhood. After working for someone else for years, my father decided to go into business for himself. He opened his own cement business bringing in a close friend to help. His business went well for awhile and then drastically took a bad turn. His friend had stolen all of the profits and left us without a dime. My father devastated was left to try and pick up the pieces. After losing the business and our home, he packed up his family and took us back to the place he called home, Kiowa, Kansas. My grandparents had left him their estate in their will. This house was huge. Approximately 2,500 sq. ft two story house on 2 acres of land. My father worked hard making ends meet and in the year of 1968 he found out he had lung cancer. He was operated on and a lung was removed. The cancer spread and it took his life on June 17, 1969. He was only 42 years old. I was only a child of 12. I had lost my friend, my caregiver, my hero, my daddy. Nothing would ever be the same. I miss him very much. I missed him at my graduation from high school. I missed him walking me down the aisle at my wedding. I missed seeing him with my children that will never know him. Not in this life time anyway. He is at peace, in Heaven. I know he looks in on us and is watching over us. I feel his love and I look forward to the day when I will see him again.
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