Jim Ransom's 100th Birthday — Michael Ransom

Jim Ransom was born 100 years ago on February 6, 1923. He lived a good, long life and passed away at age 93 in 2016. To help remember him on his birthday, below is the talk I gave on November 9, 1995, at the ceremony to honor his being named Clear Lake (Iowa) Citizen of the Year.

By Mike Ransom

Reading time: 7 minutes

I can't imagine any greater privilege for a son than a chance to stand in front of his dad's family and friends on one of the finest days of his life and say wonderful things about him. I thank you for giving me that chance.

I've thought a lot about what I wanted to say today about Dad. It's almost impossible to compress so many good feelings and memories of my forty-seven years with him into a few minutes, but I'll start with some facts about him, and we'll go from there.

He was born on a farm south of Clear Lake, Iowa, in 1923, second child of James and Mildred Ransom, grew up farming with his dad, graduated from Clear Lake High School, served overseas in the Army in WW II, married Mom in August 1947, I was born in July 1948, served in the Korean War, Sue was born in July 1953, worked for Northern Natural Gas and Williams Brothers until he was forty-nine, he and Mom owned and operated an appliance store in Manly, they moved the store to Clear Lake and managed it here for several years, and since then, Dad has been an independent painter and master of other jobs in Clear Lake.

The facts tell you about a life, but they don't tell you about the man. You've honored him as Citizen of the Year for all he's done for the community, and you've gotten to know Dad well through the time you've spent with him on committees, clubs, activities, and community projects. Well, Dad and I have spent countless hours, too, side by side working, talking, and playing. I'd like to give you some insights that only his son can give. I don't think you'll be surprised by what you'll hear.

It's hard to describe the good feeling that came over me a few weeks ago when Mom told me that Dad would be named Citizen of the Year. A chill went up and down my spine, and many thoughts about our years together flashed through my mind. Clear Lake is my home. I'm proud of the town, and I am so proud of Dad. He has always been my hero, and I love him very much.

I have never known a harder worker: Dad grew up during the Depression. His dad was able to keep their farm going through the tough times. Dad looked forward to a big orange in his Christmas stocking; sometimes that was all he got. When his brother Ross was born—in December 1933 right in the middle of the Depression—his mom told him and his sister that they wouldn't be able to afford any gifts, but that a baby brother or sister would be their gift instead. Growing up with so little makes you work harder for what you have and appreciate it more.

Dad worked two or more jobs to make ends meet until Sue and I each graduated from college. My early memories are usually of Dad in work clothes, either going to—or returning from—work. I worked with him often at my grandpa's farm, at the lake taking out or putting in docks, and around town painting houses. No matter what we did, I couldn't keep up with him. For example, I'd spend a day painting the side of a house as fast as I could. Dad would join me after his eight hours at his regular job and do in two hours what took me all day to do.

Like I said, I've never seen a harder worker. But what I remember most about all of this, was that no matter how tired he was, he always had time to go out in the yard and play catch with me, or throw the football, or go to the Mason City YMCA to play on the volleyball team. Now that I'm at the age he was, I realize how tough it was for him to do that. But it made a lasting impression on me. Work hard first and then go play.

He's humble and honest: Dad showed me the nomination form for Citizen of the Year that was submitted for him. He said when he read it, he couldn't believe that it was him he was reading about. Dad has an ego that’s barely visible, and he always puts the needs of others above his own. I've never heard him boast about himself. And I've never heard him run down someone else in order to make himself look better. He's always been too busy helping others to take time to worry about himself or what others thought of him.

I have never known Dad to tell a lie. He's always said that you can never fool yourself. You know when you've been dishonest. You have to be able to look at yourself in the mirror each morning and not be ashamed of what you did the day before.

He's a man of action not words: A man's actions speak louder than his words. I've always seen Dad “doing.” I've learned from him that it's what you do today that counts, not what you say you're going to do tomorrow. The main satisfaction in life is knowing yourself that you've done a good job. If you can't please yourself, it doesn't matter what others think. If others do recognize you for what you done; that's great. But you have to go through life quietly meeting your own standards; no one else's.

He’s served his country: Dad served in WW II and the Korean War. He has told a lot of funny stories about what happened in the war, but I know there are scars and things that must go unsaid about what he's done and seen. He is so proud of our country. Dad has a flag on top of a pole in front of his house, and he has a basement full of flags in boxes that he is always trying to sell. He doesn't make a dime on them. He just wants to see the flags flying freely around the community.

He loves Memorial Day and the Fourth of July—all chances to fly the flag. I was in college during the Vietnam War’s intense years and ended up with number 289 in the lottery, so I wasn't drafted. I felt guilty that Dad had to go through so much and I so little. But he's never held it against me. He just wants me to love our county and our community as much as he does.

He’s my best friend: A friend is a person with whom you can be yourself. Dad's a guy I can talk to. We can laugh together. We used to play volleyball, tennis, and racquetball together. Now we golf and walk and play cribbage.

I've thought a lot about this and decided that a main reason I like Dad so much is that he has always accepted me for who I am. I'm not tall, strong, dark, and handsome like he was and is. I can't fix and build things the way he can. But I have strengths that are different than his. He's given me room to be who I wanted to be; to take advantage of my strengths. And because of that I'm satisfied with who I am. We just enjoy each other for who we are. And I'm trying to let our son, Ben, be who he is, so that someday he may feel the same about me as I do about his grandpa.

He's a man to whom you look for leadership: Dad does not seek out leadership. He has this way of attracting it. People look to him for calm and sensible direction in times of strife. He's always been the person in our family who could be strong in times of crisis.

So that's my view of Dad; hardworking, honest, caring, patriotic, humble, a leader, and a true friend. I could have said so much more about his love for Mom, his church, and his community, his easy-going way he makes friends with just about everyone, and his great sense of humor, but we have to stop somewhere. I think we share the same view of Dad. He's quite a person. It's great to say all of this in public, but none of it will go to his head. He'll just go along being the best friend a community or a son could ever have.

Jackie Robinson, the Hall of Fame baseball player, once said, “A life is not important, except to the impact it has on other lives.” Well, Dad certainly has made an impact on my life; and by being named Citizen of the Year in Clear Lake, it's a confirmation that he's had an impact on many lives in Clear Lake, too.

Dad's father's birthday was yesterday (November 8). Were he alive today, he would have been 100 and so pleased to see his son honored this way. I think many Midwestern folks work awfully hard to get a simple "nice going" from their fathers. Since Grandpa can't be here to say it, I will. “Nice going, Dad. We're proud of you!”