64742 Create Memorial
Bookmark and Share

 

button
 
Memories
Laurel (George) Hargis
 

To write down the memories I have of my dad would take a novel at the very least. The 21 years that he was in my life are full of happiness, adventure, and love. Instead of sharing a specific story, I would like to simply write about what kind of man and father he was on a day to day basis.

 

His Diet:

Dad had a sweet tooth. It seemed he was always equip with one (or all) of the following; M&Ms, Coca Cola (not pepsi!!!), Reese's Pieces, Lipton Iced Tea, chocolate shakes, Carmello bars, and many other sweet delights! he also loved to eat Hash-browns mixed with eggs for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, and always relished the occasional Big Mac. He practically lived off of bean burritos and also loved to snack on dried fruit. Despite his poor choice of dietary supplementation, he was skinny as can be and was in peak physical condition.

 

His Habits:

Dad loved to have his feet scratched and rubbed. We spent many nights after dinner sitting on the couch or in front of the fireplace with our feet in each others laps trading rubs. When no one would oblige him of this delight, he would take matters into his own hands. He would grab a fork from the kitchen, peel down his sock, and scratch away with the fork. I thought this habit to be hilarious, but also had second thoughts about eating with his silverware. He always slept with a pillow over his head and liked to listen to a walkman as he drifted off to sleep. He was a book on tape junkie and always had some mystery by Patterson or Clancy playing in his car which he would fast-forward through the racy scenes when Heather or I were passengers.

 

His Hobbies:

Dad was an outdoorsman in every sense of the word. Our family vacations were always planned to destinations such as the Tetons or City of Rocks. Weekend days were spent hiking, skiing, or horseback riding depending on the weather. He also would take us to Salt Lake City on day trips to see plays, visit the natural history museum, or the science observatory. When we rented movies we always had to talk him out of getting old westerns, and he was inevitably forced to watch princess movies and chick-flicks. (Though I believe the movie Little Women did bring a tear to his eye.)

 

Dad always had some sort of sewing project under construction. It seemed he altered just about everything he owned. From jackets, to backpacks, to hiking boots. Nothing that came from the manufacturer was to his liking and he adjusted everything with his industrial sewing machine. His sewing skills came in handy when us girls requested items such as dresses, quilts, and dance costumes to be made.

 

Aside from the sewing, my dad could construct or repair just about anything. He often had fix-it projects around the house and would take us to Home Depot for hours at a time looking for supplies he needed and dreaming up future projects. Some of my favorite things he built are; our house(s), a huge tree-swing for all the neighborhood kids, a miniature playhouse, and a golf ball slingshot catapult (taken apart quickly because it was wayyy to fun and dangerous).

 

His wardrobe:

I never saw Dad wear a pair of blue jeans. He always wore his forest service-issued green jeans, even on his days off! He would rotate the green pants with tan slacks or the pants that unzip into shorts, and he would wear long-johns under everything. He always wore wool socks even during the hottest summer days and often wore two pairs. There is one shirt that he wore in particular that I despised as a teenager. It was pink with turquoise stripes and I thought it was hideous, he loved it. I even hid the shirt at one point in time so he would stop wearing it. Now, that shirt is one of my most prized possessions because it reminds me of what an individual he was. He wore what he liked and what he thought was comfortable despite what was considered "in fashion."

 

His Attitude:

I could go on and on about all the aspects of my dad's personality that made him a good man. To put it simply, he was so kind to everyone he met. He was never judgmental. He was loving and supportive of everything his daughters did. He was a wise-ass and loved practical jokes. He was a hard worker. He was extremely intelligent and humble. He had a temper like a flash flood but for the most part he was patient.

 

I really could go on and on because I have so much more to say, but I will save it for future days.

 

To My Dad,

I miss you every day. I love you every day. You are a part of who I am every single day.

 

 

Heather Hargis Beitler
 
It has taken a long time to be ready to write on this page.  Not that I have anything earth shattering to say.  But because there is not enough space or time to write about my dad.  He is every where in every part of my life.  I can't even order ice cream with out thinking about him. ( I just had Baskin Robbin's Peppermint for you daddy)  I love to come and read about my dad.  I miss him so much.  He would have adored my husband.  My children would be his delight.  The bond I have with him is stronger than I can descibe. What an incredible dad he was to me.  He was always behind me with out stretched arms.  I would like to think I am like him.  I know I have his nose.  Thank you to those who have shared glimpes of his past.  It means more to my sister and I than you can imagine.
Rich Lee
 
I am so sorry to hear of Mead's passing over a year later. I have been out of touch with everyone in Yosemite for too long. I would have thought Bob Roney would have let me know. I was trying to catch up with my past and "Googled" Mead this morning.

The physician in me is asking "what happened?" Do any of you mind telling me?

The friend in me is saying, "does it matter?" as memories of Mead  came flooding back. Memories including the winter of 1975 I spent with Mead, Tina & Roney working on Bob's first film. Our amazing afternoon near Vogelsang peak, watching avalanches after a winter storm. Our winter ascents of Ragged Peak and Mt. Conness. Helping Mead work on his truck and repairing his broken racing skis. The time Janet and I skied up to Tuolumne with Mead to play with him & Tina.

The last time I saw mead & Tina was in the early 80's when we shared a cabin at Royal Gorge. Mead paid me the compliment that I was a "rough diamond" and if I wasn't shattered in the process of growing up, I would probably turn out O.K.. I remember those words at every success or failure in my life and I am happy to say that I am still here and getting gradually shinier. Mead was one of the talented people who helped "polish" me and is responsible for one of the better facets of my character. I always thought I would get the chance to meet up with him again and to thank him for that. Alas, I did not.

Best wishes to everyone, it would be nice to meet again. Maybe do a ski trip together and sneak some rocks into each other's packs in fond memory of Mead.

Regards,

Rich Lee MD

Camp 4 resident. 1971-1974
Emily Bullis
 
My memories of Mead are too few and too short. I met him, George and Heather in 2003 for Thanksgiving. The next year we hiked and camped in Chaco Canyon, New Mexico. He loved the colors and the rocks. Mom, Mead and I enjoyed our hikes over the years. He loved the views from Mount Naomi north of Logan, UT and later we met in Lake Tahoe while Mead and Mom were heading to Mono Lake. I would have loved to have known my step-father better. His kindness, sincerity and strength rests in my heart forever.
Debbie "Pigtails" Lien
 

I spent several summers (during my college years) in the Valley, and got to know Mead (and, at that time, his wife, Tina) quite well.  I was always impressed that Tina could cook ANYthing on that old stove they had in the Camp 4 Ranger's cabin...

 

Mead and I were usually "at odds", but Friends, nevertheless.  I made a practice of violating the 'camping within the Camp 4 bounds' -- since I had found a lovely, arched-over tree (just outside the Camp 4 limits) where mother raccoons often brought their youngsters, in the night, to train them on tree-navigating skills.  Mead found me, out-of-bounds, quite early on, and -- only if he happened to be in the company of other Park Ranger guys -- would usually roust me and order me to leave my out-of-bounds sleeping spot.  This occurred so regularly as to become something of a Personal Joke, between the two of us.  There was never any ill-will, I understood his Park Ranger duties, and he probably benefited from being able to route-out a Violator.

 

I will always remember him fondly, and though I didn't keep in touch with him over recent years, I am saddened by his demise, and I know that there are many former (and current) Camp 4 residents who will regret his passing.

 

Debbie ("Pigtails")

 

Total Memories: 17
Pages:: 4  « 1 2 3 4 »
Share your Memories
  • Sign in or Register