The captain of our ship

James Audren Simpkins
1912 - 2007

It's nearly one year since we lost our dad (grandad or great-grandad). One thing is for sure: He fought the good fight. Stood his ground. Never compromised his principles. And except for the last nine or ten months of his long life, he lived it on his own terms, no matter how maddening that could be for the rest of us sometimes.

Just a scrappy kid from the coalfields of Southeastern Ohio, he made something of himself. I'm not sure he ever lived up to his own biggest dreams, but he left a lasting impression on a lot of people. He could be larger than life, and he could be stubborn as a mule and dictatorial to a fault. But he could also spin a yarn, dance a jig and appreciate the simplest things in life with relish.

And he was always "Peck." Never tried to be something he wasn't. Never went along with the crowd because it was the easy way to go. And although I used to think he was dead wrong on a lot of things, more and more, as I got older, I realized he got it right.

And another thing. He guarded all of us as fiercely as a lion. He still does.

Which one of us doesn't hear his admonitions, his stories, his strong opinions being expressed, even now?

I hope he really is at peace. I hope he knew what a difference he made. I hope he knew how much we loved him. I hope he is knows how much we all miss him.