Dad's Story

I have been thinking about my dad a lot today. He has been gone since July 1986 but a day does not go by that I don't think about him. Everything I am, everything I hope to be is because of him. I am one of the lucky ones. I had a dad that led by example. I don't remember him telling me to do anything or having strict rules but he didn't have to. The way he lived and what he lived through made it impossible to disrespect him.
My first memories of my dad were when I was around 5 or so. I remember a trip to Disneyland (sort of). I remember waiting for him to come home from work and sitting on his bed. Work then was a prison guard at Federal Penitentiary McNeil Island in Washington State. A very ironic thing indeed
                                                  Why.... well... here is the real story.

My dad was a military man. Army during WWII. He served in Europe and in the Philippines. While in the Philippines and on patrol with a buddy. My dad came upon a group of Japanese soldiers. A fire fight ensued and he was shot and captured. For those of you too young to remember google Baton Death March. My dad was captured and started his three year stay in a Japanese POW camp and survived the Death March. Three years of being beaten and tortured. Three years of being transferred from one camp to another and hard labor. My dad lost 95lbs before he and the rest of the "guests" of the camp were able to escape and found by USA Army. 

That is what I mean about ironic. From POW to prison guard. He hated that job and soon decided to go back to school and get his education degree. I remember those years clearly. Older than most all other students he went back and got his degree. It was right before he was finishing when he met with a fellow vet that as the Commandant at a Military Academy in our area. Mary Mount Military Academy was  run by the Dominican Nuns and retired Army Officers for Junior High boys. He was offered a History and PE teaching position. It was a great time for him.

As I grew I learned many things about my dad. The first was how easy it was to talk to him and how interested he was in all of us and his students. He started his day around 6am and was home around 7pm. Even though he had long hours I never felt neglected. He was always there when I needed him. I have my love of History and sports from him. I learned that a man takes care of his family and is not afraid to work with his wife to make a better life for his family. I learned that you are not less of a man to cook and clean and to help. I learned that all people are equal and right is right.

I have an older brother. He graduated high school Now, I have told you about my dad's military history. He was a 25 year man. It may surprise you but not me that my dad was right there for my brother when he did not want to serve. My dad knew and let us know the war was unjust and not serving did not make you a coward. My dad and brother thought about Canada, about refusing to serve and about joining the National Guard. He let my brother decide and supported his decision to join the Guard.

When I was 15 I met the girl who would grow up to be my wife. She was adopted and had no dad. My dad became her dad at an early age. Loved her took care of her and gave my orders to be good to here (the only orders he ever gave me). When we were 16 Kathy and I got in a huge fight. She kicked in the door of my dad's car. When I came home and showed him he didn't say anything about the damage but instead asked me what I had done to Kathy to make her do this. Before I could answer he took me to her house for me to apologise to her. A dent in the care, she kicked in and I was to say I am sorry to her. That was dad. 

When I was in college the Academy closed and my dad was a 60 year old without a job. He found another teaching job at a smaller school and smaller budget but still was there for me when I needed help. 

He taught my oldest daughter to read and do math at 5. She was able to read to her kindergarten class and was always tops because of what he did with her and for her. The first time I saw my dad cry was when we walked with him at the hospital when our son was born. We born. We had not told him but showed him at the nursery. There he saw it, we had named our son after him. It was my wife and her Aunts idea. I will always be grateful. He never met my youngest but I know he would be most proud of her. She is following in his steps as a teacher. She will be as good of one as he was.



This little story does not do him justice and I could go on and on about how important a man he was. I know most guys feel their dad was the best and that's good. My dad was the best and he was mine. He still is. In my heart, everyday he is mine. I am a lucky one.