By David Stenhouse

The man never disciplined me out of anger.

I saw my Dad lose his temper only once. He destroyed a toy locomotive that kept leaving the tracks. Trying to set up the train set for his 5 year-old son to enjoy, the little engine wouldn’t cooperate and paid the price. He really stomped on it. It’s a story that has brought our family laughter throughout the years.

He taught me that life ends and nothing comes with us. We travel light in the afterlife.

We were great friends on the golf course. Far from competitive golfers, we made up for our lack of skills with bantering and laughter. When a putt would come up short, he would ask me if the putter was caught in my skirt.

He taught me a list of priorities that I follow to this day: Faith first, spouse second, children next, and so on. Nowhere on that list is the world to serve me. Material items are to be enjoyed, but are never to guide one’s life. It is about taking care of my wife, kids, and staying focused on the good news of the Gospel.

I was to be a provider. Not a consumer.

He destroyed me in games of Horse on the basketball court, and he let me know it. On the pool table, I would beat him 10+ games in a row, where he would say, “Ok, one more game…this one’s for all the marbles”.

George Stenhouse was the true embodiment of Captain Leisure. He knew how to laugh and have fun.

He taught me how to handle and respect weapons at a very early age. Just a kid in junior high, I was allowed to wander the hills behind our house alone with a 20-gauge, searching for quail. I had true freedom.

We had opposing views on much, but there is no doubt every decision he made he believed it was in the best interest for me. Not for him. For me. I appreciate that.

He taught me that a debtor was always a slave to the lender.

He wasn’t the wealthiest man, but his riches were real. I witnessed it by seeing the laughter our family exhibited whenever we were together. A family that wants to be together and laugh at their own expense is real wealth. I love that he provided it.

He was a man of faith and was an incredibly-prepared Sunday School teacher. The man knew The Word and would provide thoughtful insights to my questions. I know where he is right now.

He and my brother taught me how to use tools. My remodeled house thanks them for my early training.

I saw how our Mom’s cancer took a toll on him. It did on all of us, but he kept sending out updates telling us to stay strong in our faith. He never wavered and I have never forgotten that.

He wouldn’t allow me to go to movies or dances, and kept me away from playing cards. He told me to stay away from alcohol and drugs because their use can ruin lives.

To this day, I have never sampled drugs or have had even a sip of alcohol. I know my weaknesses, finding new ones as I age. These habits would be a terrible addition to my list of bad decisions. His advice was what I needed to hear.

He taught me that one can be a bad influence on another, telling me “Be careful what you encourage others to do. They may not be as strong as you”.

My Dad set me up for success. He sheltered me from an unforgiving world when I was young, further providing me guidance in college and my early married life. I thought it was a rope around my neck, but when I went out and tried to tame the world, I witnessed what he was protecting me from.

I never feared him. I feared disappointing him.

This is my perspective of him.

He was the perfect Dad for me. I loved him. I miss him.

Carrying around a camera since childhood, David Stenhouse has a love for capturing people, machines, and America. A former Special Agent with the U.S. Secret Service and Trooper with the Washington State Patrol, he is now so blessed to spend each day running a business with his best friend, high school sweetheart, and wife, Shay.

David can be followed on X