Like millions of other moms, when I was growing up it was my mom who led us through the Father's Day salutes, reminding us a week or more in advance. Back in the 1950s and 60s when I was growing up (or, "In the Dinosaur Age," as my son Isaac says), remembering to honor you dad on Father's Day and your mom on Mother's Day was fairly easy. There wasn't much competition with other interests and activities like there is today. We weren't distracted by a Wii or other game system - and kids of my generation didn't typically get Sunday afternoon horseback riding lessons, or other extravagant luxuries. We went to church in the morning, had Sunday dinner mid-afternoon, then either played, finished weekend homework, or did a few chores. When I was young most of the stores weren't even open on Sundays, so there were no distractions for shopping needs/wants, either. Occasionally, we would go to a Sunday afternoon movie because it was only 10-cents until about grade eight. Then it went up to a quarter, and I think by high school it cost a whole dollar to go to a movie. A 15-cent box of popcorn would last the entire movie. Today, Steve and I can't go to the movies together for less than $30. Tickets are $7.50 each ($15 for two), and the popcorn/drink combo is another $15. BIG DIFF!When I was young, my dad was very active. He loved to fish more than any other activity and by his forties he also developed an interest in golf. Growing up in Lakeland, FL from age 2 to sixth grade - an era of stability before dad went into city management and we became a family of gypsies, moving every few years - we lived on Crystal Lake. It was wonderful. The entire neighborhood worked together to create and maintain a beautiful stretch of sandy beach, complete with a floating dock about 100 yards offshore. Dad could be found knee-deep in water with his line cast out waiting for a big bass to bite most evenings after 5pm. On weekends, he would take my two older brothers, Stephen and Mark, out onto the lake in the little fishing boat he bought. Somewhere around fifth grade, dad decided to convert the boat to a sailboat. He was amazing! Nothing dazed him. Did I mention that he also taught us how to make homemade rootbeer and one year he made a darkroom in a box to teach my brothers how to develop film for a Boy Scout project. Once they were finished with their project, he taught me how to turn that same box into an incubator so I could hatch chicken eggs for a science project.
Growing up, I knew my dad was the smartest man on earth, not to mention magical. One night when I was in Kindergarten, we were watching a show about World War II. I knew dad had served in the Navy and I asked him if he ever got shot during the war. He said, "Oh - yes - I was mortally wounded!" Of course, I had no idea what 'mortally' meant, so I asked. He said, "It means I died." As my five year-old brain processed this concept with some skepticism he explained to me with sincerity that he wasn't a real human being now because he was a "...ghost...BOO!" Which sent me and my younger brother, Jack, running and screaming to mom. Yes, I was a rather gullible child. I wish the story ended there but must confess that I made the mistake of telling my older brothers that our dad was a ghost. The teasing didn't stop for months.
I have learned a great deal from my dad over these past near six decades. He taught me the importance of being honest and holding onto integrity even when others around you do not. From my dad, I learned that respect and trust are earned, not given freely. I also learned the basics of Poker and gained a great love for many board and card games. I also learned how to hold my bladder between gas stations on family trips and how to use a charcoal grill. Dad taught me how to drive, how to do my taxes, how to change a tire, check my oil and radiator water levels, and how to polish shoes. He made sure I achieved a sound work ethic and is responsible for getting me my first job working for Parks and Rec at age 13 and keeping me employed every summer through high school. He convinced his publisher friend to hire me at age 15 to work at a weekly newspaper, then talked another friend into hiring me to flip burgers at the local Burger Chef. When I started college in 1971, he used his influence to get me a job as a photo journalist for a double-daily newspaper and it launched a career for me that lasted nearly three decades. He saw something in me that I didn't even know existed at the time.
When I reflect on my youth and young adult life there are very few moments that don't include some form of credit to my dad. He was there to name me at my birth and continues offering his love and support today. He's an amazing human being who has raised seven kids and been there to help raise grandkids and even great-grandkids today. My siblings and I affectionately refer to dad as a "stubborn old coot," (something we all also inherited from him, like our arthritis, too), but I believe it takes a stubborn quality like my dad's to successfully raise a brood of kids who are self-sufficient, contributing members of society. He could have given up on any one of us long ago, but he didn't. He hasn't been shy in telling us when we make him proud, but it's really us who are proud of him. He's accomplished much in his 90 years, maintaining his integrity throughout, teaching us life's most important lessons by setting a good example.
Today is a special day to honor our dads and I, for one, will always be grateful to my dad for all he's done for me in my life. Thanks, dad. And Happy Father's Day. I love you.
