Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2012 12:31:34 GMT -5
CORVALLIS — John Hoover has had an adventurous life: he built planes used during World War II, met his wife in a desert sandstorm during a cross-country motorcycle trip and taught machinery for years to troubled youth in a boys prison.
Hoover even wrote his memoirs while caring for his wife, Rive, who suffered from cancer 10 years before she died in 2000.
“A lot of things have happened to me, it’s a wonder I’m here,”he said. “I have too many things to be proud of.”
Hoover celebrated his 100th birthday Saturday, and is still sharp enough to recite some of his favorite poetry:
“If you sit down at the setting sun; and count the acts that you have done; one smile, one glance most kind; that fell like sunshine where it went; then you can count that day well spent,” he said.
Although a slight variation of a George Eliot poem, the words have held true in Hoover’s life.
“The words are good for me. I think it’s a good poem to try and make people like you,” he said.
Hoover’s life was filled with variety. Although he wanted to join the Army after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, he was told that his job at General Motors — where he helped make torpedo bombers called Grumman Avengers — was more valuable to the war effort. He eventually did join the Merchant Marine, where he transported troops and supplies to the military.
After the war, he worked on a dredging project for the Colorado River, as a draftsman for Convair and taught in a machine shop at a boy’s prison in California until his retirement.
One of the stories he likes to tell is of when he was 10 years old, he wanted a Daisy Red Ryder Air Rifle for Christmas. He came downstairs to see a long thin package, only to unwrap it and find an umbrella.
“He was the only boy on the block who didn’t have one,” his daughter Diane Thomas said. “But during the rainy season, I was dry,” he said in response. “I see the wisdom of my mother, giving me that umbrella.”
Hoover told his family this story in a Christmas card, and one of his grandsons found the rifle and gave it to him this past Christmas.
“I only had to wait 90 years,” he said.