He was a rebel. A man different from most fathers I knew. To me he always seemed like he could've been one of the kids. He had a sense of humor and an easy smile that made you realize his inner child wasn't so inner. He was a man who studied people. He would people watch for hours if you let him, of course in our new paranoid world he'd be creepy. He was gentle with a warmth that always seemed to permeate every situation he was in. He was hard to hate, believe me I tried, but it's hard to hate a man who believes The Three Stooges are high art.
My father was well read and loved books on all subjects. He could read and glean all the information he needed in just one sitting. He loved books about nature, one of his favorites was James Herriot's "All Creatures Great and Small", he even made us watch the television adaptation on PBS. It was like living with a modern day Davy Crockett, I think I knew how to fish before I learned how to swim thanks to my father. He chopped wood, ran a chainsaw, fished, and was an all around outdoors man. He once built a shanty out of plank wood in our backyard that stood for over a decade. Unfortunately not much of his woodland skills rubbed off on me.
My father was our coach for most of our baseball/ softball careers. He learned the sport right along with us just so he could be involved in our lives. My dad was a soccer guy who never really liked baseball, but for his kids he toughed it out and became one of the greatest coaches my hometown ever saw. He went from knowing zero about the sport to becoming a guru. People from all over sought his advice on how to teach "windmill" pitching for softball. He would read for hours, attend clinics, get dirty himself all to learn the sport better, it was amazing to watch. While most men his age were putting in overtime, or watching the game on television, my dad was living it.
I believe I learned a great deal more from my dad then I ever knew. He taught me so much in a short time frame, I just wish I had realized it earlier in life. My dad and I barely talked for most of my grown up life, partly my fault, some of it his. He died January 11th 2006 from bone cancer. We never made up for whatever reason, call it stubbornness, but I never stopped loving him. He was a great man who was loving yet firm. He always seemed to have an air of confidence that left him without fear. He mentored a lot of kids in my hometown probably without them even realizing it. I realize now at age forty-two he mentored me more than I ever knew. I thank you dad for being you, never giving in to convention and always being yourself no matter where you were, I love you and miss you and only wish to say I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you and the family. I just pray one great day, God willing, you and I will stand side by side as friends for all eternity.
He was a rebel. A man different from most fathers I knew. To me he always seemed like he could've been one of the kids. He had a sense of humor and an easy smile that made you realize his inner child wasn't so inner. He was a man who studied people. He would people watch for hours if you let him, of course in our new paranoid world he'd be creepy. He was gentle with a warmth that always seemed to permeate every situation he was in. He was hard to hate, believe me I tried, but it's hard to hate a man who believes The Three Stooges are high art.
My father was well read and loved books on all subjects. He could read and glean all the information he needed in just one sitting. He loved books about nature, one of his favorites was James Herriot's "All Creatures Great and Small", he even made us watch the television adaptation on PBS. It was like living with a modern day Davy Crockett, I think I knew how to fish before I learned how to swim thanks to my father. He chopped wood, ran a chainsaw, fished, and was an all around outdoors man. He once built a shanty out of plank wood in our backyard that stood for over a decade. Unfortunately not much of his woodland skills rubbed off on me.
My father was our coach for most of our baseball/ softball careers. He learned the sport right along with us just so he could be involved in our lives. My dad was a soccer guy who never really liked baseball, but for his kids he toughed it out and became one of the greatest coaches my hometown ever saw. He went from knowing zero about the sport to becoming a guru. People from all over sought his advice on how to teach "windmill" pitching for softball. He would read for hours, attend clinics, get dirty himself all to learn the sport better, it was amazing to watch. While most men his age were putting in overtime, or watching the game on television, my dad was living it.
I believe I learned a great deal more from my dad then I ever knew. He taught me so much in a short time frame, I just wish I had realized it earlier in life. My dad and I barely talked for most of my grown up life, partly my fault, some of it his. He died January 11th 2006 from bone cancer. We never made up for whatever reason, call it stubbornness, but I never stopped loving him. He was a great man who was loving yet firm. He always seemed to have an air of confidence that left him without fear. He mentored a lot of kids in my hometown probably without them even realizing it. I realize now at age forty-two he mentored me more than I ever knew. I thank you dad for being you, never giving in to convention and always being yourself no matter where you were, I love you and miss you and only wish to say I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused you and the family. I just pray one great day, God willing, you and I will stand side by side as friends for all eternity.
