Things My Father Never Told Me

“Every person on this planet has a story to tell, something that makes them unique adding to the whole.”

(Madisyn Taylor)

THINGS MY FATHER NEVER TOLD ME

I have been off in another world for a few nights. I finally caved and bought a 6-month subscription to Newspapers.com. It was so worth the money, and now I am addicted. I spent the weekend in a time capsule, looking up information on my family, friends and even myself. But some of the most interesting stuff I found was about my father. I always called him “The Quiet Man,” but I never had a clue on just how quiet he was!

On thinking back I had to remember that his generation, like all generations, had so many challenges—the Stock Market Crash, the Depression, two World Wars, just to name a few. Granted my father was not an adult for all these decades, but those years shaped his life and the times he had to live through. However, I do know one thing—that generation must have taken a vow of silence to endure and not complain, to forge ahead and never look back, and never, ever talk about it! Perhaps they saw it as self pity, weakness or just a plain ol’ waste of time, but information often had to be “extracted” from these folks, much like a dentist pulling a tooth! And so, there were many things I just never heard for whatever reason.

For instance, my father and I traveled together to Washington, D. C. when I was in the seventh grade. I was a school patrol member and he coordinated that trip as part of his police duties --being head of the County’s whole school patrol program. School groups were usually there during the spring Cherry Blossom Festival, and that was the case the year we went. BUT, I was in my thirties when my dad finally mentioned that he had planted some of those trees! Yep, the very trees we had beheld and walked under. You’d think this innocuous little fact would be worthy of noting, while we were there, enjoying the beauty. But no, I heard it decades later when he was telling some of his experiences in the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC.) He joined up because, as the baby of his family, he was the one left to care for his widowed mother, and they were as close to starvation as one would want to come. So, he must have accidentally “spilled” these salient facts in a moment of distraction. I wondered—why had he not mentioned this? The CCC was an honorable way to get money and save the country at the same time with one’s skills and sweat. Perhaps he was ashamed of being poor, and thus decades passed before I knew of his work with the cherry trees.

THEN, as I scanned the newspapers I read an article and discovered that my dad had foiled a robbery and saved a man’s life! As a sergeant on the police force in our town, he received a call one night and was dispatched to find a store owner at gunpoint. The owner of the local hardware store was in the sights of the robber who was just about to shoot, when my Dad must have instinctively rushed the perpetrator and knocked the gun from his hand. Well, BOOM, BOFFO, WOW-- that might make a good tale some night when things were duller than usual. But my guess is that he would have seen this as hubris for just “doing his job.” So, Sunday night I just had to admire his courage long after his death.

“Be brave. Remember that bravery is not the lack of fear but the ability to move forward in spite of fear.” Anonymous

And then there were the medals—the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart. Now, as a history buff, of course I was interested in a world war that my father participated in and survived. But the medals were carefully packed in his foot locker and never discussed. I would have to again pull memories of this war from him when he seemed a bit more talkative on the subject. After his death I officially applied online for his war records, only to find that a huge fire had destroyed thousands upon thousands of such records. I was so sad, for I would never know the fear, the courage too, that earned those medals for him. I would never have the honor of telling him how proud I was of the incidents that garnered those medals. Sure, I told him how proud I was of him as a veteran, but it was a general compliment that lacked specifics.

“Bravery is the capacity to perform properly even when scared half to death.”

Omar N. Bradley

So, what do we learn from this quiet man? Perhaps one should not brag and puff oneself up. But I remember that I once heard a minister friend of ours state that “he that toot-eth not his own horn, the same shall not be tooted.” It was sort of laughable at the time, but I have to reflect now and warn you all to share your stories. Let your children and grandchildren know who you are and what you have done. You will find a way to do it without being prideful, and flashy. But it will serve your family to know the details, the minutiae of your life. It will connect you to them and bond your clan. And it just might make a great tale one night when the family get-together stalls after too many carbs, and bring your loved ones into the circle of your life. Trust me, they really want to know.