“What was your Dad like when you were a child?”, Storyworth question, 1,210 words

My Dad owned a grocery store when I was growing up.  The store kept him very busy, he worked there almost every day of the week from 8:00 in the morning until 11:00 at night.  He developed diabetes as a young boy and had to eat 3 full meals a day.   He came home for lunch and dinner and was home for an hour or so for each meal.  I remember my Mom and Dad going out to the Elks on a lot of Saturday nights so he must have let himself leave work early on those days.   He liked to have fun on a Saturday night.  I remember waking up more than once to a band playing downstairs. They had shut the bar down and he’d invited everyone back to the house!  He loved his family very much and would do anything for us.  He gave me a dime when I was in high school and venturing out on my own.  He told me to always keep a dime with me (this was for a pay phone before cell phones) and call him if I needed to.  He said he’d come and get me anywhere at any time I needed him, just make a collect call.  He told me this his whole life even after I married and moved far away.  He’d take us on a two week vacation every summer.  He loved sports and took us to baseball and hockey games in Portland.  One summer when I was 10 (1959) we drove from Toledo to Chicago to an Elks convention.  It was great to see the country and the sights along the way, when we were in Chicago we got to see Queen Elizabeth who was also staying there.   My sister, Mardean was in the Shriners Hospital in Portland for 5 months because of scoliosis.  I was very lonely.  I remember Dad coming home from work on his lunch hour and playing hop scotch with me to cheer me up.  I also remember him driving me to school and he’d always say “see you later alligator” and I always would say “after while crocodile” that made me feel special.  In 1964 he drove Mardean, her friend Marianne, and me from Toledo to Portland and back (3 hours one way) to go to a Beatles concert.  He set in the car in the parking lot the whole time we were at the concert.  I hope he at least had a good baseball or basketball game to listen to.  I’m really glad he was my Dad.  He would do anything he could for me and I always felt very loved and protected.

Mary Lou

My dad was a busy person when I was growing up. He was a high school principal and was involved in all of the school activities. He was also a Lieutenant Commander in the Naval Reserve, which meant he taught classes every Wednesday night and was gone for 2-4 weeks in the summer. So it was a special moment when he spent time with us as children.

I loved being his helper in the garage when he was fixing something that broke. My dad had an engineer’s mind and had the reputation for being able to fix anything. He grew up on a farm during the depression and learned how to take the broken appliance apart, find the broken part, and then make a new one to replace it. I got to hold the flashlight, or get him a screwdriver, or turn on the switch when he told me to. During these times, he might share how to make a toy he used to play with as a kid. He would teach me how to make the toy and then actually play with me for a moment. We made a flying arrow out of a shingle, a skate board from broken skates and a 2×4, and a spinning button on a string among other simple but entertaining toys.

On a windy day, we built kites. We could have bought a kite kit from the local five-and-dime, but that cost money. Our dad taught us how to build our own kites. We had all the materials we needed, except for the wood. We needed a strong but light wood, such as balsa. We didn’t have balsa wood lying around, but we had a lot of wood scraps within the neighborhood, as new houses were always being built. I remember a day when Dad brought home some balsa wood and we all built kites, using newspaper, glue, and string. He showed us the correct tension for the crossbow. If you bent it too much, it would break, but if you didn’t bow it enough, the paper wouldn’t be tight. We then took our kites to a large field just a few houses away and flew them for the rest of the afternoon. He taught us to write messages on a piece of paper and then put it onto the string. The wind would then take this message up to the kite. Another critical feature of a kite is its tail. The length and weight of the tail needs to be adjusted to the strength of the wind. I love how Dad wouldn’t just teach us how to make the kite, but he would teach us the concepts of a wind sail needing a rudder or a weight to keep it under control.

As I grew older, he taught me how to work on cars. I was 16, and my parents owed me just over $100, which was enough money to buy a car. My parents also owned a piano that wasn’t being played. They knew a person who owned a 1958 Fiat 600 and was looking for a piano. He had bought the Fiat new and used it to commute for several years to and from Stockton and Berkeley to take education classes for his doctor’s degree. We traded the piano for the Fiat, and my parent’s debt was cleared and I had a car! The only problem was the car might have been a good commute car, driven at night, when it was new, but now eight years later and driven in the heat of Stockton summers by a teenager, the car broke down a lot. It actually was broken down more than it ran. That’s when my dad taught me how to work on cars. We bought a repair manual for the Fiat and visited the local wrecking yards for parts. He would show me what needed to be done, and would help me if I encountered a problem. I loved working next to and learning from my dad.

Although my dad was a busy man while I was growing up, I feel he was always there to support me, if needed. It perplexes me that I have always greatly admired and respected my dad. but I always rebelled against being too much like him. I remember my dad asking me why I couldn’t learn from his experiences, and my stating that I wanted to experience things for myself. The irony is that my life paralleled his in many ways.

Brian