- Albert Joseph “Joe” McMath, II by his daughter Ann Weinheimer
Dad has always been, to me, The Person Who Can Do Anything.
Did Santa need an elf, many years back, to make a tiny bed and wardrobe for a new Shirley Temple doll? It appeared on Christmas morning. (Mrs. Elf sewed the lacy coverings.) Did a boat motor need a tune-up? It would soon be running. Would we kids enjoy a tennis court? It emerged fully groomed in the back yard.
Dad has always shown his family what it means to be creative, to accomplish anything you want to do, to be dedicated to something important. After attending Randolph-Macon Academy and then Randolph-Macon College for two years, he entered the U.S. Army Ari Corp at the height of World War II. He says he enlisted in order to get out of taking Spanish, but his commitment to serving his country showed through his three years of service.
Assigned to a unit on Saipn, he transcribed Morse code transmissions from pilots making bombing raids on Japan. He still marvels that his particular assignment relieved him of KP duty - - a blessing, considering that cooking is not his strongest gifting. But, even more blessedly, while on Saipan he received the copy of the Eastern Shore News that ran the college graduation photograph of Miss Helen D. Savage. “That’s the girl I’m going to marry,” he declared to a buddy, never having had a date with her, and before he even knew what a good cook she was. He returned home on Christmas Eve 1945, and they were married the following June.
He entered his role as husband, and then father, with gusto. Dad’s family is everything to him - - we have always felt special that way. Many were the times when Al and I were children that he played Camel, rollicking humpty-backed across the floor with both of us on board. He built us a hi-fi stereo, constructed duck blinds and revamped a stall for a pony. He took us to the seaside each year for the perfect Christmas tree, which he chopped down, and he still since her passing, lights the outside tree lights on Mother’s birthday in December. He taught us, alternately or together, to swim, drive a car, pilot a boat, fly an airplane, splice wires, plow with a tractor, discern cloud formations, play bridge, shoot a rifle, develop film, and even eat soup without dripping - - demonstrated properly as learned by the cadets at RMA.
Along with cooking and innumerable other assets, Mother guided diplomatically in the area of Dad’s dress. When Al and Bev were planning their wedding, I heard her say, “You might want your dad to wear a tuxedo. Otherwise he’ll wear Uncle Werner’s suit.” I never discovered who Uncle Werner was, or how Dad came by his large green suit, but it was to him perfectly serviceable whenever a suit was required. I remembered her advice when Roger and I were married, for the suit still hung in he packing room, waiting serviceably.
The life of farming had many challenges, which Dad faced with perseverance, and then chose steadier jobs at Perdue Foods and the Onley Post Office. All the while he enjoyed his favorite occupation as a flight instructor (Al being his favorite student), logging nine thousand hours in the air. He has also been tireless in his church work, serving currently as an usher and helping to count the weekly collections. He would still sing in the choir, I think, but his troublesome knees don’t make for smooth entrances and exits.
Year after year, as kids, Al and I received “perfect attendance” Sunday School pins, but not because we were forced to. We actually welcomed being in a place to which our parents were so devoted. One of my earliest memories of Dad is kneeling beside his bed in prayer. We owe much to their faith. This heritage we pass on to his grandchildren, Tim, Erin and her dear Jesse, and, now a precious great-grandchild, Reid.
There is one area that Dad finds excessively challenging: keeping his desk cleared off. It is a gathering ground for papers, radios, cameras, telephones, wires, calculators, manuals - - and innumerable things too good to throw away that show the incredible breadth of his interests. This accumulation is a battle in which, apart from brief successful skirmishes, the conglomeration of articles wins. Otherwise, Dad is actually good at organizing. He was one of the founders of the Onley Volunteer Fire and Rescue Company, the Accomack County Airport Commission (where he served as interim manager), and the Eastern Shore Squadron of the Civil Air Patrol (also serving as commander). He taught regulations to follow football officials for county high school games and worked tirelessly to assist the local Salvation Army Kettle Drive in gratitude for their diligence in helping the servicemen during the war.
But more than the doing is the being. He is honest and courteous, of course, but also generous, patient, and internally strong. “Never give up,” he says. “Never let things get the best of you.” I have never heard him speak a cross word to anyone, never seen him hold someone’s sins or shortcomings against him. I don’t think I have ever known a more joyful person.
Dad often says to Al and me that “you got all your good traits from your mother and all your bad traits from me.” That comment always draws a smile. But when I consider people exhibiting character traits to which I still aspire, he heads the list. They don’t come much better.
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| + | 1. Ann Elizabeth 'Betsy Anne' McMath, b. 22 Nov 1919, Franktown, Northampton Co, Virginia  d. 17 Sep 2013, Onley, Accomack Co, Virginia (Age 93 years)
╚═ David Augustus 'Gus' Parker, Jr., m. 26 Apr 1941 ; Claude Russell Ewell, m. 4 Oct 1969 | | + | 2. Albert Joseph 'Joe' McMath, II, b. 16 Mar 1923, Onley, Accomack Co, Virginia d. 6 Jan 2013 (Age 89 years)
╚═ Helen Dunton Savage, m. 8 Jun 1946 | | + | 3. Edward 'Ned' Tankard McMath, Sr., b. 23 Apr 1925, Onley, Accomack Co, Virginia d. 13 Feb 1997, St. Augustine, St. Johns Co, Florida (Age 71 years) | | + | 4. Living |
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1923 - 2013 (89 years)
Siblings
