Merlin Fischer

1937 - 2016

My Dad
Merlin Fischer
August 24, 1937 - July 19, 2016
From ""Is to Was""
By Scott Fischer

On July 19th 2016, my world changed suddenly and drastically. My Dad had ALWAYS been there for me. No matter the situation, he had answers. Immediate answers, followed several hours or days later with well thought-out, analytical answers. Then, followed even more thought-out answers that continued…forever! As I laid down to sleep the night of July 19th it occurred to me that my world had changed from ""My dad is…."" to ""My dad was…."" Had I written this on July 18th all the following would have read: ""My dad is…"" but now, here is who ""My dad was.""

MENTOR
My dad was my mentor. In every area of life, he had an opinion and answers based upon his life experiences. Was he correct every time? Probably not, but if he was ever incorrect, I cannot recall the time. The only incorrectness that I can recall was mine when I didn't follow his advice.
From my early childhood until the day he left us he always set an example of how to be successful and carry one's self. He worked hard, both professionally and personally.
Dad cared deeply about his family and we always felt his care and concern. He had a large number of people for whom he cared. To begin with, his family: His beloved wife of 54 years, Vivian. His children, me, Heidi and Erik, our spouses (Becky, Tom and Angel) and his 8 grandchildren in order of age – Jacob, Jessica, Reilly, Kyle, Chloe, Baylee, Noah and Tyler.
My dad had an unbelievable number of friends - and he made more every day. He would start a conversation with anyone he met, a trait that I have inherited.
Dad was a driven, self-made, successful man. By example he showed me a great work ethic. Dad awoke early every day. It could be 3am to 5am, but rarely was it later than 5am. He planned his day, thought of strategies for his challenges and went to work in his coat and tie early every day. When I was a young boy he would often take me to ""the plant"" (Kerr Concentrates) on Saturdays or even week nights after he had been home for dinner. Sometimes the plant was running and he wanted to be there. Other times he just wanted to go in to get some work done and check the mail. Countless times I can recall Dad slicing open the mail envelopes and sorting out what was important and what was not. I recall him explaining to me in great detail when I was less than 10-years old, the science of his work. Did I understand or comprehend? No I did not, but I still remember the conversations. And the lasting effect is that he was training me on what it takes to be successful.
Dad was always working. At times I resented his work. Summers were not for vacations though a few short Paulina trips here and there. Summer was ""berry season!"" Could he coach my Little League team? He didn't have the time. But, he came to all my games and we played catch a lot in our back yard. I wanted to be a pitcher my second year of baseball and Dad crouched down to be the catcher for countless hours of practice.
Many of our family mini-vacations were work related. When the Mariners came to Seattle and I desperately wanted to go to a game, Dad would schedule some business meetings and sales calls around the game. I recall that first Mariner trip when my Mom and I sat patiently in the car at the ""Sunny Jim"" plant parking lot in Seattle. When Dad's meeting was done with the owner and her son, Dad came and got me to take a tour of the plant. The first family trip to Disneyland was a sales-related trip. While Mom, Heidi and I were either swimming at the pool or spending the day at Disneyland or Universal Studios, dad was calling on customers. I missed that he was not with us, but today I understand he was working hard for his family.
Dad worked hard. He started earning and saving money as a young boy beginning with his paper route and picking berries. That must be why I was steered toward picking berries and having a paper route. I hated the job my first strawberry season. The days were hot, long and I had to awaken so early! I wanted to quit, but Dad said, ""No."" I stuck it out. But much to his displeasure I spent about half my earnings on a clock-radio for my room. ""Save your money"" was one of Dad's creeds. The next summer I was going to avoid picking berries so I got a morning paper route. I still had to get up early, but I made better money and it only took about 1 ½ hours per day. A good friend at that time also had a paper route. When I called him one morning after my route was done his mother told me he was not home, he was picking strawberries. What?? My friend told me it was fun and extra money. So I am in! My Dad was so proud that I took on a second job! But once again, I heard, ""Save your money.""
Of my Dad's many accomplishments and successes, one really stands out, his decision early in life to get a college education. Once Dad put his mind to a goal, it was going to be accomplished. Dad worked summers in high school and college on an Eastern Oregon farm and saved his money to pay for his degree at Oregon State College. During college he worked as a house-boy cleaning dishes at a sorority. Dad obtained his Bachelor's Degree in Food Science Technology from Oregon State in four years, graduating in 1959.
Dad's work around the house was never done and he spent most weekends taking care of our home. Mowing, painting, roofing, you name it. Often with the help of his dad – my grandpa. Dad rarely paid to have someone else do maintenance on our home. Again, he taught me how to take care of a home. Like his dad, when I, my sister, and brother got our own homes, Dad was always there to help us. Until his last days he was helping. Erik lives so close to Mom & Dad that Dad felt an uncontrollable need to ""help"" Erik – even when Erik didn't want the help. If Dad felt something needed to be done and it wasn't being done right then, then he would do it himself. Over the last few years Dad's energy for such work was diminishing. What he used to complete in one or two days would take a week or more, just a little at a time. I know that although Erik could and would do these tasks, Dad got a great deal of pleasure doing good deeds for others. That is the kind of man Dad was.
Today, I find myself using free time to fix and improve items around my home just as I was taught. I find myself working my business in the way as would have my Dad. I awaken most days between 3:30am and 5am starting to plan my day, strategize solutions to my challenges. One thing I already miss are my emails from my Dad between 3:30am and 5:00am that no longer arrive. I miss my mentor.

CARING
Dad was a generous, giving, caring person. Not only for his family and friends, but for many he just met, or maybe never knew.
My dad always wanted to know what was going on in the lives of those he cared about. He loved to hear of their accomplishments and was concerned about their challenges. He got right to work on assisting with challenges. His own and other's challenges were always on his mind, probably what made him awaken so early every day. His ""caring"" responsibilities grew with each new addition to his family and his network of friends. I imagine that the challenges may have been exhausting for him. However, he never tired of helping others with those challenges, he felt a duty to help. I always knew I could rely on him for help no matter how full his plate. I believe his friends knew this as well.
I don't know anyone who enjoyed giving as much as my Dad. He took such great pleasure in giving or sending gifts to others. From jellies to hazel nuts to Cougar Gold Cheese I have to believe that all of his close friends received one or more gifts from my Dad. But, you didn't have to be a close friend to receive a gift from my Dad. Often times he would meet someone one day and send or deliver a gift to them the next. Dad truly lived by the creed, ""it is better to give than receive."" In fact, receiving was difficult for him. On birthdays, Father's days, Christmas – you name it, the usual response when he received a gift was something like, ""why did you do that?' or ""You didn't need to do that"" or always his favorite, ""Save your money."" Just a few months ago, I shared some advice with Dad. The advice was that when someone gives you a gift – just say ""thank you."" I told Dad, that as much pleasure as he got when giving a gift, he was taking away that pleasure from those who gave to him. I think it was one time that the student taught the teacher. However, I still think it was difficult for him to say ""thank you.""
Recently, while I was visiting my parents at their home I noticed a couple little things that still needed repair or replacement. Dad had mentioned these items over the last couple years. It was then that I realized his energy and drive were waning. Both projects just took a little money for lumber so when Dad wasn't looking (He would have told me not to worry about it and that he would get it done), I measured up the projects. Over the next couple weeks I built a cover for his crawl-space entrance in the back yard as well as a replacement wooden gate. It was not really a big deal in my mind, but it was in Dad's. Even just a couple weeks ago he sent me a 4th or 5th email thanking me for the cover and the gate and said they may have been the best gifts he had ever received. I chuckled to myself about the number of times he thanked me and I told him, ""I finally found a gift you couldn't re-gift."" Many of the gifts the family members had given dad over the years were either re-gifted to someone else or put away for use later and later never came. I once bought Dad a nice Tilley Hat. I believe he wore it one time in the last 3 years preferring instead a Tilley that he had purchased second-hand for a few dollars. There was no need to wear-out the nice new hat. I don't know if I was taught or if it is in my DNA, but I enjoy giving gifts to my friends and acquaintances as did my Dad.
Dad was also charitable. He regularly gave to the Union Gospel Mission in Salem in the form of money and food. He taught me to care for others who need help.

MR. GREGARIOUS
My Dad loved to talk and tell stories. In the family we joked that he had three versions of every story: Long, really long, and extra-long. In fact his stories had not just one topic, but, multiple. He had a tendency to digress. Though he would say, ""Do you want the short story/answer or the long we knew that he meant long, extra-long or really long? Over the years I came to enjoy the really long the most. My dad had knowledge and experience he loved to share and I loved to hear. It did not matter to him if he had told you the story before he wanted to tell it again and again. The stories were difficult to track at times and I might have to interrupt to get him back on track, but I loved the stories and would give anything to sit with him for hours now and listen to him.
Dad never met a stranger. He would strike up a conversation with anyone who would listen. Again, taught or in my DNA I have found that while I was once a quiet, somewhat shy person today I find myself starting conversations with strangers and my children comparing me to their Grandpa when I am telling them a story or answering their questions. Becky, the kids and me laugh and I continue on like my Dad. Thank you Dad!
Dad loved good jokes. However, he had a difficult time re-telling a joke. Sometimes they went off perfectly. Other times, like his story telling he would digress or get ahead of himself. The punch line is normally at the end of the joke, but sometimes dad would throw in the punch line mid- joke then continue on with the joke. We all laughed at his delivery then figured out how to reorganize the joke properly and laughed again.
And speaking of laughing, when something really hit my Dad's funny-bone he had the greatest full-body laugh. I took delight in watching him laugh so hard, with tears at times while still trying to talk. The uncontrollable laugh prevented the words from coming out. Am I ever going to miss that laugh!

MR. ICE-CREAM
Once, during a Doctor's office visit the Doctor said to my Dad, ""I understand you eat quite a lot of ice-cream"" (my Mom had told the Doctor). My dad replied, ""If you consider a pint a night a lot."" Dad did love his ice–cream at night. Last summer on a family trip, one of the grandchildren asked him about how long he had liked ice-cream? A half-hour later they knew how ice-cream used to be home-made, a special treat on weekends and how it is made today. He never answered exactly how long he had liked ice cream but suffice it to say the proper answer would have been for his entire life.

MR. BASEBALL
Though Dad has always had an interest in baseball, once he retired he became a ""fanatic."" Years ago, it was an occasional Major League game, an American Legion Game, watch the All-Star Game and the World Series. His teams were the St. Louis Cardinals with Stan ""The Man"" Musial (furthest team West when he was a kid) the Dodgers and most recently the Mariners and Cubs. The Cubs have to win the World Series now – for my Dad. Since his retirement he knew everything about MLB. He knew all the players for every team. If I had a question about anything current in baseball he had an immediate answer. Dad and his good friend Dick Colgan often travelled together by train and caught ballgames in many MLB parks as well as some Minor League and college games. Sometime back Dad and I played catch in his back yard. I thoroughly enjoyed those 15 minutes. Now that Dad is in the ""Field of Dreams"" I'd love to ask him, ""Hey Dad, want to have a catch?"" My Dad and I shared a love for baseball.

A FIGHTER
While dad was an underclassman at Oregon State during a routine student physical a Doctor found that Dad had a damaged heart valve and told dad he would be lucky to live to age 30. That was tough to hear at age 19. Dad always said that he told the Doctor, ""Don't be so sure!"" Thirty-nine years later, in 1995, Dad underwent open-heart surgery to have a stainless steel valve installed. The Doctor at the time told him the valve would be good for 10-15 years. At the time of Dad's passing he had the valve for 21 years and as far as we know, it was not the valve that failed him. About ten years ago dad was diagnosed with a blood leukemia. Dad battled thru the treatments and the Doctor told him he would probably live 7 to 8 years. He beat that too. My sister, Heidi, said this week, ""We always kind of thought of dad as an iron-man, beating the odds and rarely ill."" So his sudden death this week was even more of a shock.
Speaking of Dad and his Doctors. I would be remiss if I didn't mention one of Dad's favorite stories. Dad developed a close friendship with the Doctor who performed his heart surgery – Dr. Wilson, a UW Husky. True to Dad's giving nature he offered Dr. Wilson football tickets in Corvallis for the Beaver/Husky game. Dr. Wilson said he could use 14 tickets and Dad got them including one for himself. While at the game one of Dr. Wilson's friends showed Dad his ring for having played in the Rose Bowl for the Huskies. Dad told the man that he himself had played in the Rose Bowl. You have to picture my Dad, about 5' 8"" tall and 170 pounds talking to an ex-football player. The guy looked at dad kind of funny before dad said, ""2nd Trumpet in the marching band."" In fact Dad's trip to the Rose Bowl with the OSU Marching band was the trip of his life up until that time – his first flight on a plane. Till the very end, Dad would love to say to people, ""Have I told you that I played in the Rose Bowl?""

A BAD HEART – A GREAT HEART
For a man with a heart in poor physical condition, my Dad had a great heart! His love and care for his family, friends and acquaintances is his legacy. He would gladly help anyone with anything.
I already miss my Dad terribly. I only hope to achieve all that he achieved. Fifty-four years of marriage. Super Dad and Grandpa. Enjoying life while caring for others. A great sense of humor, a great smile and laugh. Favors for many. He was a great man who lived a full life. Like everything he did, his life was a job well done.
I love you forever, Dad!
Scott
A celebration of Merlin's life will take place at McNary Golf Course Restaurant on September 10, 2016 at 1 p.m. In lieu of flowers, the family suggests memorial contributions be made to the Union Gospel Mission of Salem, a charity that was near and dear to Merlin's heart – www.ugmsalem.org/donate.