Memories of Larry Mountain
Gary Mountain
July 19th, 2006 would have been Larry Mountain’s, my dad’s, 89th birthday. Dad lived until February 07, 2006. I have been reflecting on what the relationship is like today and what it was like before his passing.
I was born in San Francisco, Calif. on July 10th, 1950 at St. Francis Hospital with a case of bronchial pneumonia, a collapsed left lung, and bronchial asthma. I spent my first ten days there and then was transferred to Stanford Convalescent Hospital, where I lived for two full years. I remember that my mom, Wanda Mountain, and my dad came to visit me each week. We saw each other through the plastic enclosed oxygen tent that I lived in. I was born without an immune system. Because of this, I could not breathe the normal air and had no defense against trivial ailments such as a common cold.
There were thirteen children in my ward room and today only two of us are still alive. Most had issues like polio, birth defects, heart disease or a crippling disease that impaired mobility in some way. I noticed that Mike Cupabird, who also had asthma, and I were the ones whose parents visited us the most. Each Saturday, my Mom and Dad came to visit me and they would look at me through the clear plastic tent. They would keep me informed on their daily lives and about what life on the outside is like. At times, Mom and Dad would cry and say how happy they were that I was alive and progressing so well. Yet, I knew they were upset because in reality I was not doing well and we were always apart from each other. I knew there was always something wrong as I watched the other kids get held and kissed and were able to get up and move around. After two years at Stanford, my parents moved from San Francisco to Santa Clara because the doctors said that I would never be able to breathe with stability in the moist fog climate that San Francisco maintains. When my parents came down to see me, they announced that I was going to have a sister and that they were moving to Santa Clara to a new home that my mom was instrumental in building.
Mom worked for David D. Bohannon Builders and the home they were moving into was a home the company had built.
After my sister was born in May of 1952, I was transferred to O’Connor Hospital here in San Jose. My Mom and Dad came to visit almost each day after work. Dad had been commuting by train to work in San Francisco at Incandescent Supply where he had worked since the end of World War II. Mom was busy building homes and buying the land necessary for new construction projects. I came home some days to try to live without the oxygen tent and to become accustomed to trying to live outside of a hospital. I was living about ten days at home and about ten days at the hospital and doing some level of interaction with my sister, Phyllis and Mom and Dad.
In 1954, Dad transferred to a San Jose branch of Incandescent Supply on Fourth Street and St. John. After work, I always had a visit from Mom and Dad. As a child growing up in San Francisco, my father got into the habit of getting out of bed early and starting his day with two hours of quiet time and reading. As an adult, Dad would read all about the world economic trade values of precious metals, gold, silver, copper and aluminum. He would often have entire conversations about which country was going to sell the lowest traded value. He would read about world news having to do with the countries governments where these metals were mined. Sometimes he would come talk about a place in Africa or Asia and about the way of life for the people and or sometimes he would talk about the economics and the financial disparity present in these countries . As a young kid who was trapped in bed, I had nowhere to go escape such talk! Yet I found myself not wanting to either -- Dad talked with passion about what he did. He enjoyed the learning process about the effects upon the people that economic conditions created. He made a conversation as if he were a travel guide telling a story so clear that his words painted a picture of the lifestyles, the hardships, the gains and the losses of the people.
Dad was very active in coaching little league baseball. He actually coached two separate teams or 6-8 year olds and 9-12 year olds. They were sponsored by the Veterans of War (VOW). He was able to leave work after the kids were out of school and spend about two hours with them, four to five days a week. Dad had many teams who won championships and he had some that never won a trophy at all. Dad was always there, giving his time. I knew all the names of the kids, what position they played, and the results of how they played. I remember he would only concentrate about the task the kids did right. He never talked about what a kid did that caused a loss, rather he bragged about what the kids did that caused them to somehow show that they were improving.
From 1952 to 1954 I was in and out of O’Connor Hospital until I went back to a Stanford from 1954-56, where I spent most of my time. I didn’t learn to walk or to play until I was about six years old, but I always remember that my Mom and Dad were always present and they never gave up on me. Mom would talk about helping a family buy a home. She didn’t sell the real estate; she was into the buying of the land, the building of the homes and the escrows that created the paper trail for each client to get through the process.
Mom would truly enjoy rising to the occasion when she would have a family that was declined. When this happened, it would give her the opportunity to go work her magic so they could be “approved.” While builders bought products from my Dad’s firm and Mom’s companies were often clients, they never discussed individual accounts around me.. They would always talk about the relationship of a family and how their work contributed and impacted this.
In Dad’s case, it was about assisting someone to get into business. Dad was the first to give families, like the Smith brothers who founded Orchard Supply here in San Jose, a loan and to issue credit to them from the store. In 1959, Incandescent Supply was acquired by Consolidated Electrical Distributors and Dad continued to work there until his retirement in 1982. Mom and Dad loaned money to many builders in the 60’s and 70’s to stay in business when times were difficult.
In the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s we had many visitors who came from around the world. My Dad’s favorite traveling friend was Armand Hammer. The two of them would talk about trading precious metals into the wee hours of the night. Armand was constantly inviting Dad to come along on these worldwide adventures, but he always declined, saying that he belonged with his family at home. Dad was the most “stay at home” person that I had ever met.
Dad used to say that he couldn’t pinpoint who was the smartest of his friends and colleagues, but he used to say the Richard “Dick” Colburn was the best financially managed person he knew. Colburn taught the power of conducting business for cash and that debt was really wrong “long term.” He used to say that Dick Colburn was the most balanced and talented individual he ever met. Many of my Dad’s friends came to visit me in the hospital or at my home. I think they came because of the kind of a man Dad was. He never left his family, even if adversity was evident or he found himself on the brink of disaster, he always just kept working is way through it all.
As I grew up, I knew that due to my illness, I was a challenge to those who cared for me and that my illness would have challenged most people. But when I was very sick, Dad never brought up the burden I had placed before him. When I was 25, my Dad called to say he wanted to take me to dinner. That night he told me that I was finally “all his!” I didn’t know what he meant, but then he showed me he just paid off the last of my hospital bills that have been accumulating years. Dad said he could now say he was in an “all cash” position. My father had received many generous bonuses from the Colburn family, and rather than rewarding himself with them, my father used these to pay for medical needs.. Even though Dad had his own challenges, he was always there for someone when they needed him. Mom and Dad loaned money to solve other peoples business problems even when they didn’t really have it to spare.
When I was old enough to play baseball, I tried out for my Dad’s team and for three years in a row I was cut. But being cut was not the worst part. The worst part was that I had to go to the games as the “bat boy.” I was always trying so hard but in truth was never very good at baseball. Dad was always fair and the truth was I was not good enough. After three years, I decided that it was my Dad’s feeling that I was not cut out for baseball, so I began to search for other activities. I didn’t make it there either. I swam at Santa Clara from age 8 until 12 and never won a race; I played basketball for the YMCA leagues during the same time and I don’t recall being very good at that either. I was doing Judo at the YMCA and not until I was about three years into that sport did I even feel noticed. So at the ripe old age of about 13, I went to my Dad and asked, “Why do I have to keep doing things that I fail at?” I was participating in baseball, basketball, swimming, judo, running track, and nothing was really allowing me to win. Dad sat me down and explained that “your life is not measured by the amounts of your winnings but about the way in which you accepted the losses.” Dad said, “through your defeats you will win” as he tried to demonstrate the lesson of not giving up even when the odds are against you. Dad said, “In America, God loves a winner. Oh, I know that God loves the drunks, the down and outers, the criminals, but in America, God loves a winner.” He then would say, “Winners don’t always win on the score card. Winning is the sense of pride when you know that you did more than you believed that you could.” Dad would talk about “reaching deep inside of you and asking that you learn to give it all… all of the time.”
Even when I lost, he would say he was proud of me and the way I played. As I grew up I learned that we have the capacity to err, we can make a mistake and we can live through them. Dad was steadfast, often firm about being in character and he always would stop to make time for a person. I can’t remember when my Dad was not there for everyone who asked. Maybe not at the exact moment in time, but he would always make the time.
When I became an adult, married, and raised a family of three wonderful children, my Dad would always come over after the kids were done with school and pick them up. He was active in their lives daily. He picked them up every day and once a week he took them to Coco’s Restaurant.. He would take them home and they would do their homework for him at the kitchen table. He would sit and listen to each of them tell him about their day and he would always bring a snack for them. Dad was the safety net for the day. He was the one who the kids counted on to always show up. Dad passed on his wisdom to each of my children Kelley, Spencer, Stephanie and he was always telling them that “they could do it” -- whatever it was.
When I look back today, I am compelled to encourage you to have your parents get involved with your children’s lives, so that both will benefit it a big way. First, it takes “being busy” into another dimension as you work your way through each day’s challenges. The fact that Dad was there with the kids was a really big help to Carolyn and me. We had a swimming pool and we encouraged the neighborhood kids to come and go swimming every afternoon. By doing this, the kids would want to come to the home and the kids could know my Dad. He was a great influence upon them and it seemed like the kids who normally misbehaved just didn’t when at our home with my dad around.
Dad’s presence continued from kids’ elementary school through high school. Can you imagine that a senior in high school would really allow herself to be picked up at school by “Grandpa?” Dad was respected, liked, trusted, gave himself always.
When Dad died in February 2006, I had so many emotions that I had a hard time showing them. I kept meeting with a family member or a close relationship who would say that they “just wanted to bring him back one more time” and that they had something left unsaid. I have had so many people come to me and say they wish Dad was still here and that “they wanted to some way thank him for what ever he gave to them.”
When my sister, Phyllis, called to say that Dad was dead and had passed away at home, I was somewhat shocked because Dad was not ill. In fact, he had just been to Kaiser Hospital for a complete physical and was told he was in great shape. I felt empty inside. I felt that I had just lost the insight of the man who was the single most stable man I had ever known. He always gave credit to others who had influenced and shaped him, and I always felt that he and Mom were who influenced and shaped me.
What I have gained most about writing this message to you is that my relationships with my dad and mom are complete. You see, they always took the time to be clear and to finish what they wanted to say. Perhaps this is the group of lessons that I want to pass on to you. Dad gave himself first to everyone who asked. He was steady and steadfast about his commitment to his family, friends and associates. He was married to Mom until her death and if you count dating time they were together for 38 years. Dad was employed by the same firm -- the name started out as San Francisco Lighting and Electric, then Incandescent Supply and then CED -- for 43 years. He volunteered to be part of the community and even when personal pressures were present he continued to be there for so many people weather it was the neighborhood kids or the vendors and suppliers with whom he did business. Everyone knew they could count on his word and performance.
Most importantly, now that Dad has left this earth he has become even more accessible to me. Before, if I was at my home in La Quinta or if I was in Cupertino, St. Thomas, Samara, Costa Rica or wherever I was, I would have to call Dad and arrange to travel to see and talk with him. I had to schedule my time to do this. Now, I just tend to look up and start talking to Dad and Mom and I do it knowing that they are right there and that they are very present for me. I can just start out talking and the funny thing is that I sometimes feel certain warmth while doing so. I don’t need an appointment. Dad’s body is gone, but his spirit is alive and doing well. I don’t have to make a call and ask for time, rather I can just start talking and I know he is listening to me. When my Mom passed away when I was 28, I didn’t have the maturity and the same comfort that I have today. And so my relationships with Mom and with Dad are far more present with me today.
If you have lost a family member I want to urge you to use this idea and just talk to them. You don’t need an appointment and you don’t need to explain anything as they are always up-to-date and very present. They know what you want to say and why. I hope that this writing provides to you a level of comfort and gives to you a deeper understanding that the relationship has changed only in shape and that our loved ones are really still with us.
My children are all enjoying a deep relationship with Grandpa and we trust that you can have the same relationship with someone you care about and love as well. I urge you to include the elder members of your family and to ask them to be more a part of your lives, for both of your sakes. Consider the adage, “The older I get, the smarter I find my parents to be!” Funny, when I was growing up, I thought they were too strict, too overbearing, too structured and so much bigger than life itself.
Mom had a lesson for everything. She used to say things like:
“If you sell to the masses you’ll eat with the classes and if you sell to the classes you’ll eat with the masses.”
“If you want to enjoy another person… treat them like it.”
“You must first learn to divide the profits before you try to multiply them.”
“Become a great teacher and the students will teach you what you do not yet know.”
I could go on for hours about what lessons Mom and Dad taught me. Perhaps in another 20 or 30 years I will learn it. They are so much smarter today that when I was 16!
Can you relate to this at all? Can you use my story to make a difference in an elder’s life that may have been cast aside? If your parents have passed, perhaps adopt another’s. Don’t leave an elder behind and lose what they can give to you and to your children. It is okay if you learn from them as well. Dad and Mom served me well and are still leading my life with God.
God Bless You,
Gary
