Terry Hebdon Life Sketch

Life sketch, given by Thomas -

How do you put into words the events in a man’s life that made him who he is? I have tried to read more of dads early life’s stories, look through his photo albums, and get input from many who knew him. I didn’t want this to be my life sketch of dad, but his life sketch from others. I’m not eloquent like he, nor do I share his ability with words. I do however want to share some experiences from our family to combine what you all know of him with a few things you may not know so we can paint the true picture of “One Good Man.”

            Keith Auger and Idris Egbert Hebdon moved from Idaho to Washington to pursue the farming lifestyle they desired. They had purchased property in Royal City but the land did not yet have water to it, so they settled in Quincy for a time. Dad was born in Ephrata on July 16, 1957, while the family lived in Quincy, the fifth of seven children.

            The family lived in a small camper trailer till they were able to build a home. Dad remembers carrying nails and boards as they built this home, which as you may know, the walls were built with 2x4s stacked on top of each other.

            He talked about the early process of taming the land and the lack of amenities that we now enjoy like running water. He remembers bathing in the canal near the home and at a young age changing siphon tubes. Fixing holes in the dirt ditches and changing water which was always a family affair. Later up grading to hand lines and to pumps to wheel lines and eventually circles. He remembers when the family bought a harobed, which was one of the first in the area, and as kids they ran in front of it turning flat bales on edge as Dennis would pick them up. These experiences along with many others taught dad how to Work, and the importance of it.

            Dad learned the importance of Sharing and Spending Wisely as, during the difficult years, the activities of daily life were centered around the basic necessities of the family.

            Dad was “born of goodly parents who loved the Lord” who taught the importance of Church Service and Missionary Work. I found in his photo album many certificates for participation in church activities such as boy scouts and the young men’s organization which show his desire to follow those teachings. From 1976-1978 he served a mission in Barcelona Spain. This was not the first of his serving opportunities nor the last but was one that we, as his children, know he cherished. We know it provided a broad range of experiences that helped shape him as a man, a father, husband, brother, teacher, friend and cook. He would often make Spanish tortillas for breakfast and taught us simple Spanish words occasionally at the dinner table like leche and sandia and agua, allowing us to share in the excitement of his experiences and sharing in his own way his testimony of the work.

            After returning from his mission, dad continued his life like most returned missionaries, attending firesides and activities, getting to know new people. In June of 1979 at a young adult dance dad met Elaine Rodeback a beautiful young woman. They danced, then went on their own ways after. The next day at a fireside, dad asked mom again to accompany him to an activity in Kennewick, she was pleased to accept the invitation. It didn’t take long for mom and dad to recognize something special in each other and they knew they wanted to continue with courtship.

            Mom, in her teenage years, had developed a “mental list of qualities” her future husband must posses, qualities like Tall, Dark, and Handsome, Kind, Humble, Knowledgeable, Thoughtful and has a sense of Humor.

Dad, in his life up until this moment, must have been developing those qualities in himself. Because when they met, he fit the mold.

            I don’t know if dad had a list for mom, I never found one in his journal but I did find a couple pages of notes and drafts of this poem he sent to mom. And how can you give dad’s life sketch without a poem or two? This poem was the first that mom knew dad to write. It was a strength to her then, and as you blog followers may know, it has been a strength since. He wrote:

            My heart is full

            It can not write

            And so my hand

            Picks up the plight

            To express to you

            My love and care

            And thank you most

            For being there

            For permitting my acquaintance

            With you to grow

            And become a love

            that’s true we know

            A thing that thrives

            When we’re together

            A bonding force

            For worse or better

           

            An emotion that

            One day may be

            A light far off

            That we can see

            Which guides us both

            In our trek together

            Bringing sunshine

            In stormy weather

            That utopia we both

            Must strive to find

            Through tenderness

            And being kind

            Now let it be said

            Before I’m through

            Elaine, my dearest

            I do love you!

            What else needs to be said after receiving a poem like that? A couple more months of courtship led to their marriage on February 12, 1980 in the Idaho Falls Temple. Where they vowed to continue on life’s journey together. To continue to check off many more “mental list qualities” as he became her Best Friend, Loving Husband, Great Father, Great Example and Hard Worker, along with many others.      I know he succeeded! I have seen it, I know many of you have seen these qualities expressed through his actions and words.

            Often times at home, we have joked about the older children growing up with a different dad than the younger children. Life definitely threw us a curveball that changed the game a little, but I know the younger children still saw these qualities. We saw tributes on face book from BrittanyJo and Chase and others that prove this.  Dad never changed who he was. He grew up in a time when your word was your bond, and a handshake was a contract. He never changed that either, even when the world lowered its standards. He taught us to be the same, by his example and we all can agree that he is our Hero!

            He also taught us to work hard, that it was possible to do hard things. He taught us, “early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.” To “get up, get dressed, and get going.” He would quote the film Bambi “If at first you don’t succeed, try try again.” Taught us to do our best in every task we faced. To not be afraid of the unknown or cower from a challenge, that “he had signed up for this”. He was resourceful, he built furniture pieces, some out of left over lumber from our house and some out of scrap metal from the shop. It seemed he could repair anything we could break, maybe not the conventional way but he would figure it out. He overhauled an engine learning as he went, being meticulous and attentive as he tore it apart so he could correctly put it back together. Whatever the task he worked till the job was done.

            He has always took pride in his accomplishments while striving to maintain humility. He encouraged us to take “pride in ownership” no matter the condition. As life has gone on his perspectives have changed a bit. He has been able to achieve many of his business goals:   
            Work hard to get out of debt

            Build an adequate home and provide for family

            Become self reliant/dependent/sustaining

He also shifted more focus to personal/family goals

            #1 raise family in gospel-have joy in posterity

            Attend graduations from HS and College

            All boys serve missions

            Attend all Temple Marriages

Some of these are nearing completion, while others have a way to go still. But I know his passing will not stop him from fulfilling these remaining goals, even though he cannot do so in person.

            I will always remember, as Akleigh calls them, the Seadattle trips while dad was receiving transplants. How we were able to spend Christmas together,  ride the ducks, go  to the zoo or the aquarium, and visit Pikes Place Market. Last year we enjoyed finding and counting the 12^th man flags, a tradition we didn’t know would keep going where ever we go.

             I remember seeing his compassion towards others as they too were receiving treatments and facing life’s trials. Sharing the gospel with many and love with all. Telling about the different sleeves made by BrittanyJo and Ellen and sharing them with others.

            The different stories from his life as he and I worked together for the past few years. Stories that weren’t momentous in many ways but still brought us closer together. In trying to come up with a few things to share about dad, I asked a few of my siblings if they had anything they thought should be said. Through a lot of the ensuing small talk a common thread was the way they enjoyed being able to spend time with him in different ways. Dad was fun to be around and to learn from. There are many more experiences I could share and I’m sure you have some of your own too.

            I am grateful for the time we got to spend together. For his unwavering and unshaken faith and positive outlook in his life that seemed to be a lot like the weather outside today. For being the rock I needed at times in my life when I was walking through sand and needed a solid place to stand. May we never forget Dad’s life, nor the life of whom he followed.

            I feel a little like my speaking today has gone against one of dad’s other sayings. “Of all the things that come to your head, only 10% of them should be said.” I may be around 15% now, so I will finish with a poem from my Aunt Shawna,

            The sofa is covered with children,

                        But it is empty too.

            The room is lit and glowing,

                        But it is empty too.

            The lady bug bucket is missing,

                        I’m sure it’s empty too.

            But life goes on forever, we know,

                        Because of the empty tomb.

I love you, Dad!

-----

Now a note from Elaine:
The lady bug bucket is just a cute bucket I had at the house when Terry needed it.  If you had visited the last month or two of his life you probably saw it sitting on the sofa, table, or floor beside him.

It was cuter than a garbage can or big plastic bowl, and it became his "spittoon" so to speak.  He would use it to spit in, throw up in, or just put garbage in.  He sometimes referred to it as his "ladybugget".