The Day the Law Library Got a Little Less Funny
Today is a special one, but not to as many people as it probably should be.
Today is the day my dad, Steve Lambson, hangs up the law librarian hat he's worn for so long, so the he can don the cap of a well-earned retirement.
I admit, I can't honestly say how many years, exactly, Dad has worked at the University of Missouri Law School. I know he started there sometime in the late 1980's or early 1990's, so it's been around 25 years. That means, essentially, at least one of his kids has never known life during which Dad has not been in Hulston Hall (or Tate Hall before that).
What I can say, exactly, is that I hope he is able to someday understand just what an impact he's made there, for hundreds of students and colleagues and other people needing the help of someone with more legal expertise than they have.
What I can say, exactly, is how thankful I am that Dad has gone to work day in, day out, riding his bike in rain and wind and cold and hot, always with a smile on his face and a "ready to help with whatever someone needs" attitude.
What I can say, exactly, is how proud I am to have a Dad who has dedicated the last few decades working to provide whatever he can for the big family waiting at home for him. Yeah, that sometimes meant taking a job as a night custodian or picking up paper routes to do as a family, just to earn whatever income we can to help ourselves along.
What I can say, exactly, is that there are people out there, uncounted masses whose days were made better because Dad was there, in his office or at the reference desk, ready to teach or instruct or guide or smile or tell a goofy joke.
What I can say, exactly, is that there is no one I know who has earned the right to sleep in a little longer (though I know he probably won't most days, and I love that about him). There is no one I know who has put as much of himself into a job, or found as much joy in a job as Dad has. People hear law school, and they think "big time lawyer." Maybe they hear "law librarian" and wonder "what is that?" But I know, and I love, and I'm proud of the fact that Dad grew to love what he did.
There's that whole "do something you love and you'll never work a day in your life" bit. I don't know if that's true, but I do know Dad loved what he did, no matter the amount of work it took, because he loves the law, he loves teaching and helping people, and he loves his family enough to do whatever it takes to give us what we need.
Dad, I'm proud of you, I love you, and I hope you get as much enjoyment out of retirement as you did out of working at the law library. Hulston Hall will be an emptier place without the great character, love and humor you brought to it for so many years.
Lucky for us, maybe that means we get even more of that stuff at home.
Sure love ya !
Today is the day my dad, Steve Lambson, hangs up the law librarian hat he's worn for so long, so the he can don the cap of a well-earned retirement.
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| Wonder no more about whence my good looks came. Okay, from Mom, too. |
I admit, I can't honestly say how many years, exactly, Dad has worked at the University of Missouri Law School. I know he started there sometime in the late 1980's or early 1990's, so it's been around 25 years. That means, essentially, at least one of his kids has never known life during which Dad has not been in Hulston Hall (or Tate Hall before that).
What I can say, exactly, is that I hope he is able to someday understand just what an impact he's made there, for hundreds of students and colleagues and other people needing the help of someone with more legal expertise than they have.
What I can say, exactly, is how thankful I am that Dad has gone to work day in, day out, riding his bike in rain and wind and cold and hot, always with a smile on his face and a "ready to help with whatever someone needs" attitude.
 |
| His office was always like an "I Spy" of trinkets and treasures and mementos. |
What I can say, exactly, is how proud I am to have a Dad who has dedicated the last few decades working to provide whatever he can for the big family waiting at home for him. Yeah, that sometimes meant taking a job as a night custodian or picking up paper routes to do as a family, just to earn whatever income we can to help ourselves along.
 |
| Rolling newspapers - it conjures a groaning kind of nostalgia in our family. |
What I can say, exactly, is that there are people out there, uncounted masses whose days were made better because Dad was there, in his office or at the reference desk, ready to teach or instruct or guide or smile or tell a goofy joke.
What I can say, exactly, is that there is no one I know who has earned the right to sleep in a little longer (though I know he probably won't most days, and I love that about him). There is no one I know who has put as much of himself into a job, or found as much joy in a job as Dad has. People hear law school, and they think "big time lawyer." Maybe they hear "law librarian" and wonder "what is that?" But I know, and I love, and I'm proud of the fact that Dad grew to love what he did.
There's that whole "do something you love and you'll never work a day in your life" bit. I don't know if that's true, but I do know Dad loved what he did, no matter the amount of work it took, because he loves the law, he loves teaching and helping people, and he loves his family enough to do whatever it takes to give us what we need.
Dad, I'm proud of you, I love you, and I hope you get as much enjoyment out of retirement as you did out of working at the law library. Hulston Hall will be an emptier place without the great character, love and humor you brought to it for so many years.
Lucky for us, maybe that means we get even more of that stuff at home.
 |
| You can see where I get it from. |
Sure love ya !
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