All of you here knew my dad – he was your sibling, your
husband, your father, your father-in-law, your grandfather, your uncle, your
acquaintance, your neighbor, your friend. Each of you has memories of him.
The memories I am about to share are how I knew and experienced
my dad.
My dad was very proud to be a Marine; he served in Korea. The
Marine Corp very much shaped the man my father was. Honor, courage, commitment
are the core values of the Marine Corp – and describe my dad to a t.
My earliest memories are of sitting on his lap, with my ear
to his chest, listening to him read poetry.
He was the quintessential father of the 50’s & 60’s. He
loved us by providing for us. He was a workaholic. He graduated from high
school – and by the end of his career was a top executive in an international
corporation.
He always led by example. I can’t tell you how many times I
heard him say, “You learn more from listening than you do from talking.” That
said my dad was one of the greatest talkers of all times!!
My dad was a fighter for social justice – though he never
referred to his work that way. He moved our family to Bainbridge, GA, in 1965.
His official job was plant manager, but the work he did integrated the work
place – paying whites and blacks who worked side by side - the same wage; over
the years, as the south slowly moved forward – he was instrumental in making
the transition into fully integrated schools successful and safe.
We didn’t know he was doing that – it was just part of his
life’s work.
The one story we did all know was the day he integrated the
movie theater. Each year there was a holiday party for the employees and their
families – and the company rented the movie theater for the event. Well, in
south Georgia, in the sixties, the white people sat in the main part of the
theater, and the blacks came in through a back entrance and sat in the balcony.
My dad would have no part of that – and the front doors and main floor of the
theater were opened to everyone. It stayed that way from that day forward.
My dad was color-blind – literally – but, also figuratively.
He never judged a person based on their color.
He was always involved in the communities he lived in: the
Red Cross, the Library board, PTA, Rotary, the TIFA board, the church. He
always made a difference. He was one of the founders of St. Peter’s Free
Clinic, based here in this church.
While my dad worked long hours, I remember Sundays as being
family days. My dad joined the Episcopal Church in 1966. Our Sundays included
going to church. Then we would come home and wait hours while he cooked, talked
and talked…..to Fr. Atwood, or later to Fr. Charles.
There were also Sundays spent on the river. In a boat, but
usually sitting, as the Sunday routine was to put the boat in the water, go a
ways, then the motor would stop. So, we sat, while he worked on the motor. We
never got completely stranded, that I remember, but sometimes it felt as if we
would. If we weren’t boating – we still would often go to the river, where my
dad would teach us to “do nothing” - to sit and enjoy, and to observe nature;
to be still. It is one of the best gifts he gave me.
We rarely took vacations, other than our annual trip to
Michigan to see relatives. But, the beach was always a big part of our lives –
whether it was an impromptu week-end at a mom-and-pop hotel at Mexico Beach, or
a house filled with extended family and friends. When he had something to “sort
out”- off we would go to the beach. We had a “Red Box” filled with all the
things we would need to grill breakfast on the beach. We would walk the beach,
while he started cooking.
So many memories are around food. My dad loved to cook. And,
he loved to cook for a crowd. There were Easter morning brunches at St. John’s;
fish fries; shrimp boils; pancakes suppers; quail bakes; fondue parties;
Brunswick stew; enormous pots of vegetable soup; and his famous spaghetti sauce.
There are many memories of sitting in the kitchen of
whatever house my parents were currently living in, while my dad cooked – and talked.
He would start telling stories – one would lead to the next and to the next and
so on. He would continue cooking, telling stories, adding a little of this and
a little of that – to both the stories and the food.
My dad loved his dachshunds. From 1973 on, he always had a
dachshund in his life. Most of them we all loved, but not all of them!
One of the things I will always remember about my dad is how
whenever he was asked how he was doing – not matter the circumstances – he always
replied “Great!”
My dad was positive, stubborn, loving and the most amazing
person I have ever known. It is impossible to describe him this briefly, but it
was important to me to share some of this wonderful man with all of you.
We were all so fortunate to have him in our lives. The
memories – they are all good ones.
Thank you – for being here, for your love and support.
