The Sentinel, My Dad 201112

      Some time ago I wrote a post about my grandfather and readers asked why not my father? So here goes my post about dad.

      My father was not like any other man. He was, to quote a book title “the best of times and the worst of times” with me. While I was his first born, I was not his favorite son. His favorite was my brother Tom and I understand that because I was more like my mother and Tom was more like my father. I did not care to be working with dad on his never ending construction projects, while Tom was right in the mix as soon as he was walking. One time dad and uncle Kenny were putting a roof on our house. The house was an old two story built on a stone foundation that came up between 3-4 feet above ground. It had 10 foot high ceilings downstairs and a very steep pitch on the roof. I estimate the peak of the roof was 35-40 feet off the ground. My brother Tom was too young to nail down shingles, but he was up sitting on the peak of the roof. My mother walked out of the house to check on their progress and just about lost her mind seeing my brother sitting up there and she insisted dad bring him down immediately. I emphasise my point about our relantionship here with this; I enlisted in the navy and left home for good. My father told my mother, “well your son left you, but my son never will.” Dad was right.
      Dad was overly opinionated. We only had one brand of bread, one brand of soft drink, one brand of milk, one brand of beer, nothing else was allowed. Those opinions were employed in the way he saw everything in life. That said, he was always employed, always supported his family, his relatives. If anyone needed a loan, they came to dad. They rarely ever paid it back, but dad supported family no matter what it was. Best of all, when it came to Christmas, he was Santa to everyone. No one ever did Christmas like he did. He supplied grand Christmas dinners to an entire houseful of people and made sure mom’s elderly relatives had transportation to the feast and back home afterward.
      Dad was brought up in tough times. No one really knew what happened to his father, but his mother would spend her days making sausages and dad would sell them on the downtown streets from the time he was 9 years old to support him and his mother. He had to be tough to survive.
      During the great depression, there were no jobs until president Roosevelt came up with his NEW DEAL that put Americans back to work building highways, roads, bridges, dams and parks. Those projects are still in use today. My dad signed up for the civilian conservation corps. He worked hard building roads and one of the state parks and while I am not sure, I believe that is where he learned to drive because his mother never drove and his father was gone. Dad’s pay was $30 per month and those in the corps had to send $25 of that to home and family. It was not an option. Hard to imagine working hard jobs 30 days for $5 in your pocket, but that’s the way it was. When he had the opportunity he left the conservation corps for a position as a truck driver and that is how he spent most of his working life. He worked delivering for a meat company for 22 years, delivering either a quarter or a side of beef with a truck that had no ramps or electric lift. We are talking 250-400 pounds. Yes he was as strong as an ox.