Thomas Wayne Hines

Tom was a man of many hats (mostly cowboy hats, some of them still in the box). He was a wonderful husband and father, a loving grandfather and caring and giving Uncle. He was the youngest of his siblings, and he was proud of each of them. He was also a friend to everyone he met, Tom did not know a stranger. My sister and I are blessed to be able to call him dad.

It has been a rough week, and I have been putting a lot of thought into how to approach this draft. Nothing in my brain seems to be working, and every time I start to try writing, I just go blank. There is so much to remember about dad, so much to say. So I will sort these hats as well as I can and I hope that I will not miss any.

One of dad’s passions was carpentry. He had wonderfully creative ideas of how to make sure our home was under construction of one type or another throughout the ENTIRE 46 years we lived there. It was an everyday occurrence to see dad with a tool belt and a ballcap, with a carpenters pencil in his mouth, a look concentration and mumbleing something about a dirty rotten something or other. Mom usually covered our ears at this point, so I am not clear on what, exactly he was saying. Dad did not believe in small projects, he was removing load bearing walls, building whole rooms, designing a bar out of used oak flooring, and all of them were beautifully planned and executed. He made our home a wonderful place to grow up, with the added value that Amanda and I can hang drywall and shingle a roof if we ever need a few extra dollars.

Not only did he build rooms, he built beautiful furniture including two lovingly hand crafted cribs for his grandchildren. Not only his grandchildren, babies all over Cheyenne have slept in these two cribs; one made of walnut and cherry and the other made of maple and oak. He had a way of bringing wood to life that made any room with his creations feel warm and inviting.

Dad enjoyed hunting and fishing for as long as he could. Endless fishing trips with his friend, his kids, his kids friends. As much as he enjoyed fishing, he usually ended up baiting hooks and helping reel in fish for giggling children who were absolutely tickled that they caught one. He got as much joy and excitement from helping us and our friends fish as he got through doing it himself. And holy moley! That guy could fry one delicious trout!

Not only trout though. Dad made the best pie crust on the planet. Making pies was something he did to relax after a long day of doing math and building furniture. Food preparation gained a foothold as seasonal tradition in our home. Every year we would make gazpacho for Christmas dinner. Fortunately the kitchen that my dad built was large enough to hold 4 grown kids and 3 grandkids along with a wide variety of knives, vegetables and garlic. (Come to think of it, maybe having 9 people waving knives around wasn’t the BEST idea, but it worked.) While we are on the subject of Christmas, the man was a bubble light connoisseur. He would make sure that all of the bubble lights were placed precisely on the tree before we could place a single ornament on it. The trees when we were young, had been hand cut in the woods by his own hand. We would go as a family to choose a tree and cross country ski in and out of the forest. As we all aged we preferred not to get frostbite every year and eventually changed to a fake tree. He was NOT very happy with the fake tree. 

Dad’s favorite season though was Frontier Days. He volunteered for over 40 years for the Contestant’s Committee, and I think he enjoyed every second of it. He made so many friends at the park, and had the opportunity and generosity to introduce us girls and many of our friends to a view of the arena and rodeo that not many get to experience. Frontier Days was never not a part of our lives, and dad was (much to mom’s chagrin) extremely involved and active in it. He went from working behind the chutes to working right next to them in the “Poor Man’s Sky Box”, a small section in the West stands near the entrance to the chutes. He loved doing this and enjoyed all of the people he was able to meet and visit with during the rodeos. One of his proudest moments after his passing will be when his name is on the benches right outside of the Rodeo Committee doors.

New things keep popping into my head as a write this. The times spent at The Broadmoore with Rotary. The years of watching him build fireworks displays with the Jaycees, the dollhouse he built for me, the balance beam he built for Amanda. Hearing over and over, “If you’re gonna be dumb you better be tough”. It is easy to forget these moments through the hectic times of adult life, and I could probably go on writing for hours. I am going to stop now though, and enjoy these thoughts on the inside of my head.

My dad was a giver. He was a wonderful man who more often than not wore his heart on his sleeve. His love for his family will not be missed, because it is carried on through his children and Grandchildren, and he had enough for everyone else to carry it on too. The love has not gone anywhere. We will miss you Dad/ Grandpa Sharptooth/ Uncle Bingo. Thank you for all you taught us.