In Celebration of David Watson

Newington Neighbor, Volume 28, No. 120, Winter 1999, Page 4

by Sally Frink and Anne Ryder

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My daughter Anne and I share your grief at the recent passing of David Watson, who surely must be one of Newington's finest characters. His warmth, humor, and courage will never be forgotten, and we would like to share a special memory we have of him. It was the summer of 1991 and we came up from Maryland to participate in the remarkable experience of the Frink barn painting. After that miracle had been accomplished, things got a bit quiet around the farm, especially for a 12-year old girl with no contemporaries to play with and no horses to ride.

Anne took an immediate liking to "Mr. Watson", and (we still don't know how) somehow arranged with him (unbeknownst to her mother, aunt, uncle, grandmother, etc.) for a driving lesson. Let me hasten to add that Anne's 14 year old brother was still waiting for his first turn behind a wheel. The notion that Anne would also want to learn how to drive was too scary for her parents to even contemplate!

So it was a very exciting moment for both mother and daughter when David appeared in the dooryard with his "Allis" and invited Anne to join him in the cab. Knowing how fond David was of his tractor and fearing for the newly painted barn -- as well as my own safety, I was nonetheless determined to capture the event on film. After a few calm and well chosen words of instruction, and a few guided turns around the yard, Anne was soon heading off into the pasture. He even showed her how to do a "wheelie" by putting the lawn mower down and raising the front wheels off the ground.

As the sun went down and Anne was able to bring the tractor to a full and complete stop without having damaged anything, her relatives standing by heaved sighs of relief. But neither Anne nor David were through as he invited her over the next day for an equally impressive lesson on his bulldozer! If you look carefully at the picture with David walking and grinning at the camera, you can see Anne coming along behind him with the bulldozer and waving triumphantly. It would have been a better picture if I'd had the courage to wait until she got closer, but she was closing on us pretty fast!

When we got back to Maryland, Anne got a lot of mileage out of the story of her driving lessons, much to the amazement of her friends - and the chagrin of her brother! Since then, Anne has considered David to be her adopted grandfather, and always enjoyed seeing him whenever she came up to the farm. We were very glad to have had a short visit with him last August, and will always remember him with great admiration and affection.

When I sent the above account to Anne, now a senior at Penn State, she decided the time had come to reveal the rest of the story, written as follows:

By Anne Ryder

The days that I spent with David Watson while visiting my grandmother at the Frink farm are truly some of the fondest memories of my childhood. There was rarely a time when I would be in Newington without seeing that old yellow truck pull into the driveway, and know with great pleasure that he would probably be persuaded to stay for a bite of dinner or at least a brief visit. As a 12-year-old, he fascinated me with his jokes and unbelievable stories, and as a teenager he awed me with his incredible strength and courage. I spent many happy hours listening to his storytelling, and viewed him as I would a grandfather.

My mother has already described my first driving experiences, "wheelies" and all. But what she did not mention was that, after he had seen my determination and stubbornness to lcarn to drive, Mr. Watson decided that it might be okay for me to take the yellow truck for a quick spin around the block. I must have destroyed the clutch on that poor car, but through it all he sat by me and patiently explained what I was doing wrong. I will always remember his encouraging words of advice, his patience, and most of all his trust. I am certainly no poet, but upon returning to my grandmother's I sat and wrote out the following phrases. I would like to share them with you in tribute to a man whom I will miss dearly in my future visits to Newington:   A poem by Anne Ryder