A Man's Man - My Father

Lee Kenneth Topper was born on the 4th of July 1905 in Stillwater, Oklahoma to William and Mary Topper. William was a brick/stone layer and the family grew up with a moderate income. You will remember that William was what was known as a Sooner, having homesteaded the property outside Stillwater before the territory was actually opened up to the white man.

As I grew up and whenever possibly, I was like a little puppy, following my dad everywhere. He told me a lot about his growing up. He and his family moved to California (Orange County) when he was only 14 and stayed a couple of years before returning to the Ripley, Oklahoma area. When he was 19 he and his cousin got a motorcycle and dcided to see the USA. This would have been around 1924. They took off west and covered all of the west coast, working odd jobs for gas and food (like washing dishes) - and sometimes they simply did without. They lost the motorcycle as a result of an accident on a wet road and crossing a RR at a 45 degree angle. From then on they were hitch-hiking, walking and riding the box cars (rail) when possible. They both returned to Ripley. Dad said he had had enough of the fast life and wild living, so he started going to church, looking for a good christian girl. She came in Lowney Mae Craig, the third child of William and Etta Myrtle Craig, who were local farmers. They were married June 7, 1927.

Lee and Lowney moved to Delano, California area late 1927 or early 1928.

Dad's background was oilfield work, construction and farming. He was always looking to make an extra buck. At one time he took an old auto, stripped it down, put a duster on it applied sulphur and cyanide gas in the vineyards. Applying the sulphur was poor pay (there was no hazard there), but applying cyanide paid $1.00/acre. It could only be applied between 2am and 5am, and there had to be zero drift. Everyone living within 1-1/2 miles had to be advised. Sometimes it would take up to five days for the conditions to be right, but once started he could do 80 acres in about 40 minutes. That was fantastic pay - but it was deadly poison and he earned every penny. He took me out sulphuring some nights - but never on the cyanide.

He did business with a lot of people and everyone liked him. He once told me that he could have been a rich man if he could have learned to shave without a mirror. But lieing and cheating people would make it impossibly for him to look himself in the eye with a mirror. He said "Son, if you look a man in the eye, and shake his hand, the deal could not be more binding".

He never said "I love you, son", but actions speak louder than words. And he would relate some experiences with me that I know were intended to make me more manly.

He would not miss a football game I was playing in, and attended all father and son activities and if I ever needed help, he was always there to back me up. He always used to say "if you choose to dance, you must pay the fiddler. If you are innocent, I'll back you. If you are guilty, I won't bail you out). He treated me as an adult from age 15 on. From that time, it was never NO, it was "I wish you wouldn't".

Dad was highly respected in his work (rigging). He was night foreman on the building of a dam and for three summers in early 1950's he worked in Greenland building Thule AirForce base. He was in charge of unloading materials and equipment. At Morro Bay, he set the first generator for the power plant.

He contracted Hodgkins disease while at Morro Bay and was operated on in the Fall of 1955 in Fowler. They were unable to get it all, and for the next two years we saw the steady slide downhill.

When I graduated from the CHP academy in March 1957, I was not expecting any members of my family to be there. But I looked out and there was my dad - he had ridden the bus up to Sacramento and then rode back with me. He was able to make one trip to Bakersfield when I was posted there and I was able to take him out on patrol with me.

Labor Day 1957, it was a CHP maximum enforcement day when everyone had to work and I was working the highway from Formosa to Kettleman City. I was called in to the office and given a leave of absence - they had received a call that my father was dieing. Sue, Katrina and I hurried to Fresno, but we were too late. Dad had waited until he had heard that Louise had given birth to her first child Denise, and he rolled over and left us. At the funeral in Kerman (officiated by Lowney's brother Cecil), there were over 250 people in attendance. The church couldn't hold all the people who showed up.

I loved and respected by father very much and hope he was as proud of me as I was of him.