On this Father’s Day, I’ve been reminiscing about my dad, Bobby Gene Shults. He was one of the “greatest generation” who served in World War II and went on to build a life and raise a family afterward. He wrote his own life history, which is filled with stories about the Dust Bowl, the Great Depression, and his adventures as a young boy in Texas, Oklahoma, and California. When we visited, he’d tell those stories to my children, carrying on his legacy. I fictionalized those stories in my “Adventures of Cowboy Bob” blog series. For this article, I’m focusing on my memories of my dad that show a bit of his personality and passions.

The Patriot

Bob served in the Navy during the tail end of World War II. He enlisted as soon as he turned 18 in March of 1945 and graduated from high school a couple of months early. He was sent to boot camp in Tennessee, then to Oklahoma for Aviation Machinist School, then to Florida for Naval Air Gunner School. The atomic bombs were dropped on Japan in August of 1945 while Bob was in the hospital with pneumonia. The war was over.

Bob would spend the next year on the USS Antietam, an aircraft carrier headed for Shanghai, China. The Antietam was already at sea, so the men were put on a destroyer to catch up to the 7th fleet in the Pacific Ocean. Bob became part of the deck crew, getting planes ready for takeoff and landing. The Antietam docked in Tsingtao and Shanghai, and the sailors were able to go ashore. Bob remembers the Chinese being so hungry they would surround the ships in their sampans and use nets to pick up garbage the sailors threw overboard. By the time Bob was ready for discharge in 1946, he was dropped off at Guam and put on another destroyer that was headed back to the States. The ship caught the edge of a hurricane, and the strong winds sent the ship rolling. Bob was glad when they finally reached San Francisco.

Like many veterans, Dad didn’t talk much about his time in the Navy, except to say that he felt physically the best in his life because his allergies didn’t bother him at sea. Toward the end of his life, my sister and I attended a local 4th of July program with him and my mother. We weren’t sure why he wanted us to go so much, but as part of the program, the veterans of each military branch were asked to stand while their theme song played. Dad proudly stood as “Anchors Aweigh” wafted through the auditorium. Always patriotic, this small demonstration meant a great deal to him and, in turn, to us. When Dad passed away,  we had a military salute at the cemetery that he would have loved.

The Outdoorsman

Bob grew up in a family of farmers and cowboys who hunted out of necessity. After the war, Bob’s parents had moved from Sanger to a ranch in Yreka, California, in the fall of 1951. The ranch was situated just south of the California-Oregon border, spanning a mile of the Shasta River, making it an ideal place to hunt and fish. Bob would join friends and family in hunting just about anything and loved to saddle up the pack horses and ride into the High Sierras for hunting and fishing trips.

As a young girl, I have vivid memories of my dad going hunting with my brother and uncles. We’d eat the pheasant, which I enjoyed, and the venison, which I didn’t.  He tried to turn me into a horsewoman and bought me a pony when I was about five years old. I named the pony Jethro and was excited to ride him – until he lay down with me. My dad sold him off, and I had no desire to ride horses after that. He also attempted to teach me to shoot, but the first time I fired a shotgun, the kickback was so intense I refused to try again. My dad kindly realized that I would never ride horses or hunt, and was content to have me develop my skills on the piano instead.  He always had a book in hand and especially loved Louis L’Amour books about the Old West and cowboys.

The Sportsman

Bob loved sports, so he and his brother, C.H., would practice football or basketball after school, then walk the five miles home to milk cows. C.H. joined the Navy during Bob’s sophomore year, and Bob had to milk the cows alone. Luckily, his dad had bought a milking machine by then, but with milking 35 cows before and after school, as well as ball practice and games, Bob didn’t have much time for getting into trouble. Both the basketball and football teams went undefeated during Bob’s senior year of 1944-45, and in 2009, the entire 1945 basketball team was inducted into Sanger High School’s Hall of Fame. Bob never lost his love of sports and loved watching a good ball game – everything from his grandchildren’s little league baseball games to the NBA basketball playoffs.

Growing up, I have fond memories of watching every game of the World Series and cheering on our favorite team. When I was learning to play softball and was a left fielder, Dad would hit fly balls out in the yard so I could practice making catches. He taught me to fish and waterski, having the ultimate in patience as I learned to get up on one ski.

The Family Man

Bob became an instant father when he married a young widow with a four-year-old son. Many men had proposed to my mother, but she knew Bob would be a good father, so she accepted his proposal. Our family was complete with the birth of my younger sister and me. Family was of the utmost importance, and when my dad joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, he learned about eternal families and the importance of family history work. He wrote numerous letters to family in California and Oklahoma, which became an essential step in building upon for later family history work.

As a family, we worked, played, and worshipped together. One summer, my dad “put me in charge” of irrigating the forty acres next to our home while he took care of the 500+ acre farm 10 miles away. Every ten days, we’d have our water turn, and we’d set siphon tubes by hand to water the crop. The water had to be changed every few hours, which meant getting up at night. Of course, my parents both helped, but I felt responsible, which probably led to having a better attitude about the work!

Once my dad purchased a used boat, we spent many hours on the Snake River boating and waterskiing. I’d take a friend and he’d patiently teach them to waterski as well. We went on camping and fishing trips, and traveled several times to see family in California. One of the few times I saw my dad get frustrated in the car was when we were sitting in Los Angeles traffic after leaving Disneyland.

Capturing memories of our loved ones is important! Reflecting on my father helped me remember so many good times and lessons learned at his hands. I’m very fortunate to have had him in my life, and I love telling the stories.

Best of luck in all your family history endeavors!