I am certain all the fathers out there do a great job, but today I want to brag on the dad I personally feel is the best one around, given it is Father’s Day.

Anyone who knows my dad Ted Childers always asks me “Are you Ted’s daughter?” near-immediately when they meet me because I am apparently his carbon copy. I suppose there are worse things to be. I at least got his blue eyes out of the deal. I like to think I got a lot of his nature, too – he has always encouraged me to be kind when I don’t always want to be and to treat others how I would like to be treated. I always know if I’m in a tough spot, I can count on him to help if there’s any way for him to do so, even if it is in the form of guidance.

There are many people with good ol’ southern hospitality around here, but then there’s my dad who I know to be a truly good person. He treats everyone with respect and goes out of his way to be kind, which is probably why I never hear a bad thing about him. He is not prideful and doesn’t draw attention to himself for the things he does – he is humble and simply does it because he wants to. If I’ve turned out even a little like him, I would be okay with that.

I love hearing stories from those who knew my dad back in his heyday when he could supposedly send a baseball careening out of the field at Tullahoma. Unlike his eyes, I did not inherit his athleticism and could not care any less about “the sports ball,” but I still enjoy stories he has never told me himself. They were less amusing when I would get trapped in the sporting goods department of Walmart as a kid for 30 minutes while he caught up with someone he once played ball with, however. Patience comes with age and now I relish such interactions.

He’s always been the outdoorsy sort and he used to take me fishing or to parks when I was a kid. I distinctly remember going to Normandy Dam and catching bluegill and rainbow trout with him. My Granny Ham was fond of the trout so we kept those for him to take to her but typically tossed the bluegills back to swim another day. My dad always had to bait the hooks because I didn’t like hurting the worms and they were so slimy and gross, but he has told me I am very accomplished in the art of “squirrel fishing” based on how many times I got my line tangled up in any tree within our vicinity. I never caught any squirrels, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.

These days, he does less fishing and more farming. He can identify any type of tree from 10 miles away based on its bark or the shape of its leaves and he grows the best strawberries I’ve ever had. I guess you could say he’s still a really cool guy.

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there, but especially to mine.

Standard reporter Nikki Childers can be contacted at design@southernstandard.com