The Hoosier Clockmaker

The Hoosier Clockmaker (mp3) (pdf)

Today is my father's 100th birthday. He's no longer around in person but I encounter the things he made every day. Earl Goodin wasn't one for displays of emotion so I'll keep this brief.

My sister, Sherri, and I were unbelievably lucky in the parent lottery. I, of course, didn't always realize that as a child or young man. Dad and I had our share of misunderstandings and disagreements but it's easy to see in hindsight how fortunate I was.

I don't remember Dad ever missing a Little League or a football game. He was there pretty much every day until I went off to college and then he was always available when I'd come home. (This is Dad's birthday but he would want me to point out that our Mom, Rosie, was practically a saint and he would give her all the credit.)

When I turned to music for meaning in life he was supportive but not wildly encouraging. I can only imagine the reaction he had to the many nights we held band practice in our basement or in the garage. I knew not to play the radio or my record player too loud but he must have endured what seemed like endless hours of foreign sounds coming through the walls.

Dad was a builder and a maker of things. During the day, for money, he made automobiles for the Ford Motor Company. He worked 30 years on the line. No one was ever more proud to be a member of the UAW than Earl Goodin.

At home he built things constantly and he had a fine woodshop in the garage (the garage that he built himself). I know that he was disappointed when I didn't follow in those footsteps but he also enjoyed doing that work in solitude. When he was in his prime I believe that he enjoyed nothing more than repairing a watch or building a clock. Most of those watches are no longer ticking but several of those clocks are still keeping time.

My outlet was making music and, eventually, songs and tunes. I know that he was proud of my meager ability and was happy for me to have found such pleasure, and some recognition, in my work. So today's simple little jig is called "The Hoosier Clockmaker" in recognition of the life and memory of Dad.