Dad

My Dad was a disciplinarian, having attended military school himself in Pennsylvania. He was a 160 pound defensive lineman back before helmets had facemasks and were made of leather. After High School my Dad attended college for a couple years, then joined the Army for what was to be a one year enlistment that was extended with the bombing of Pearl Harbor. He met my Mother, who was in the Red Cross, on Saipan in 1945. There began a romance resulting in them getting married in March of 1946. Dad and Mom drove out to Tucson in a war surplus jeep, where my Dad enrolled at the University of Arizona, and where I was born in 1947. We all then moved to Pittsburgh a couple years later where my Dad attended law school.

Did I mention he was a disciplinarian? It was a direct result of his military school and US Army raising. When he meted out a punishment, it was always creative. For example, I was once suspended for a week from Junior High for fighting. His approach was if I felt something was worth fighting for, then be willing to pay the price. The price this first time was to cut our back yard grass, with scissors, and then only after washing it with a bucket of soapy water! Or the time I had to scrub the carpet with a cleaning brush and hot, soapy water, or clean the coal dust out of the wooden basement floor boards with a tooth brush!

My brother, sister and I took our turns setting the table nightly for dinner with every plate and saucer, every salad fork, soup spoon and knife in it’s proper place. We had to dress for dinner, I in my sport coat and tie. There were no elbows on the table, wipe your mouth before sipping from your water glass, then again after. I stood up whenever my Mom or sister stood or arrived to take their seat, as you would for any woman. We were required to converse, using perfect grammar (the penalty for misspeaking being a jab from his fork to the back of my hand).

Dad had me playing football in the fifth grade, and he attended every game all the way through High School. He loved to play golf on weekends, and I was his caddy. He learned to fly a plane, then took up skiing. He was an avid reader. His parents having given him a set of Harvard Classics when he was about ten, and he read them all. His favorite pastime was watching the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Friday Night Fights on TV. He enjoyed boxing and took me to the Golden Gloves regionals yearly for my birthday.

He became a successful Attorney, but insisted on being his own boss saying he took enough orders while in the military. He practiced all sorts of law but if he had a specialty, it would have been Real Estate Law. In fact, he was also an instructor for Penn State extension campus near Pittsburgh. Believe me, I heard all about my short-comings when I listed and sold my parent’s home when they decided to retire to their summer cottage on the Allegheny River!

Dad passed away on my 50th birthday. I flew back and delivered the eulogy for his service. After the service, my Mom had me go through his belongings. It was there I found a cancelled check he had sent to me in 1972. I needed $500 to buy our first home in Tucson on a VA loan. He reluctantly mailed me the check. In the memo section he had written “final support payment”! I last saw Dad the summer before he passed. He had given me a goodbye hug as I was about to leave, then retired to his favorite chair in the cottage. I gave him one last look, through the window, before getting into my car to leave.

Submitted by Michael Roberts, Estrella resident