Bless Be the Ties that Bind

It’s said that the tie makes the man. If this is true, then my father is a well-made man. Through many years of his life and career, he has displayed his professionalism in a suit, a white shirt, and a very classy tie. The dress code in the early part of his career in soil conservation was khaki pants, a work shirt, and a pair of well-oiled leather brogans. These were the “formal” apparel of the field conservationist, who worked with the farmers on the land.

But then in the early 60s, he and the family moved to Washington, D.C., and the work attire quickly changed. Every day, for nearly 20 years, my father wore a tie, along with a suit and white shirt. He exuded professionalism, no less the conservationist than when he would walk the hills of Seward County, but with much greater responsibility and sphere of influence.

Today, he brought out his collection of ties. Some brightly colored, some much more muted. Some nearly solidly colored, while at least a handful with pictures of various types. One of my favorites was the dark blue and green tartan with an American flag held by an American eagle, at the bottom of the tie.

I couldn’t help but think about the many years that my father has worn these ties, where they might have been purchased, perhaps on some business trip, and what important decisions on the job or outside of life these ties may have witnessed.
While each of us sons are taking some of these ties with us, my sister-in-law is also taking some, not to wear, but to make into a wonderfully colorful quilt of memories.

As the old Church hymn goes, “bless be the ties that bind.” These ties, expertly tied by my father with a Windsor knot, helped to tie our family together and, so, as we divided up the ties, they will remind me of my father far into the future.