I wanted to share a story about my dad that I will probably speak at his funeral.
I was 12 years old, hanging out with 3 of my friends in the back yard of an empty house. We were just being kids, talking and joking around.. We then moved to the front yard and were sitting on the wall hanging out when this old couple walked by. The old couple asked us what we were doing? We looked at them and said, "Nothing." The husband insisted that we go home. I replied, "We aren't doing anything." Well, this angered the old man and after five minutes of him shouting at us to go home and us not listening to him, he and his wife left in a huff and went into their house (a few houses down.)
So, fast forward 15 minutes. We are still sitting on the wall and front yard area just talking and joking around when two police cars pull up. Officer gets out of the car and says, "We got a report that some kids are vandalizing houses."
I was the defacto leader of our group and I replied, "We weren't doing anything, we hang out here all the time. And the house is fine, check for yourself..."
The officers replied, "Well, you need to come with us." Our initial reaction was to run, so we ran. Cops didn't stand a chance of catching us as we knew the neighborhood, however, one member of our group named Eddie was fat. After a minute of jumping over back walls I notice he isn't with us. So I halt our motley crew and say we got to go back for Eddie.
So we walk back and there is Eddie, handcuffed. The police quickly handcuff us and throw us in the same car, squishing 4 of us in the back seat.
First they drive to Eddie's house, and when his parents see him being brought to them in handcuffs you can tell they are upset. The cops say, "Yeah, we caught him vandalizing a house and thought it best to just let you handle it." The parents immediately smack him in the back of the head and you can tell he is going to get it. They thank the officers and I can't help but notice the cops have a nice smirk on their face.
Next, we go to my friend George's house, same reaction.
Then Billy's house, and same reaction from his parents.
Finally, we get to my house, the cops knock on the door and my dad answer's and sees me in handcuffs and the officer's smirk. They proceed to take my handcuffs off and tell my dad I was vandalizing a house. My dad then asks me, "What happened." I told my dad, "We were just hanging out in the front yard of a house up the street, then someone called the cops on us, we ran away from the cops but then I made us go back because Eddie was too fat to keep up. But we didn't hurt anything, we were just hanging out..."
My dad told the officer's "Thanks for bringing him in." And he led me into the house. And that was that. No trouble, No speeches, nothing. He believed me and that was the end of it.
No matter what my dad always kept a cool head, no matter the circumstances he would ask me what happened and he would believe me or trust me.
Same thing with driving. I have been driving since I was 14 years old. He'd often throw me the keys and tell me to go get something from the store for him. You see, my dad grew up in Rural Tulsa and he had a lot of responsibility growing up and taking care of siblings. He was driving tractors and cars at 13 years old. He was hunting dinner for the family since he was 12 yrs old. So he raised me the same even though I grew up in the city. Since I was a kid, he taught me how to be responsible and how to be a man. He insisted that a man knows how to take care of himself, whether it be fixing something that broke, doing laundry, or cooking dinner. Yes, my dad insisted I know how to cook, clean, sew, and repair anything mechanical that breaks or at least try to fix it before you take it in to the shop. he also insisted that a man is strong and fights to protect those he loves. Whether the fight is with words or with fists, "You don't take no *bleep* from nobody" was one of his mantras. He would also say, "You never start no mess, you never start a fight, but if someone else wants to start a fight then you finish it!" I know those words would seem harsh in today's mamby-pamby zero tolerance world, but that was the best advice I ever got.
he was also firm with discipline. In my house, the longest I was ever restricted was a weekend. He didn't really believe in unnecessary punishment. ONce you learned your lesson, that was that. For most infractions he would sit us down and talk to us, however, if we did something extremely bad, we would get a spanking. First he would explain what we did wrong, then he would ask us what our punishment should be and he would ask us to be honest. He would say, "A man accepts responsibility for what he has done." Then he would spank us with his hand or a belt and then afterwards he would talk to us again explaining that he didn't want to but had to and that he loved us. And that was that. No further punishment, no more talk of what we did wrong. My last spanking was when I was 11 yrs old. He looked me in the eye and said, "That was it, that was your last spanking. You are getting too big to spank, next time, we fight with fists."
There never was a next time.
I remember another incident comes to mind.
My brother was tasked with cleaning the car and he needed to back it out just a few feet so he could better reach it with the house. Well, long story short my brother (9 years old at the time) did NOT put the key in the ignition, and so the brakes didn't work and he accidentally wrecked the car into the basketball pole causing damage to the door. My dad asked my brother what happened and my brother told him, and my dad rubbed his head and said, "Don't worry about it, you didn't mean to do it, it was an accident."
No yelling and screaming about his car, no getting in trouble, nothing. My brother's heart was in the right place and it was a simple mistake. And that was that.
Another incident comes to mind. One of my brother's friends was in an abusive home. He was 16 at the time. My dad told him he could live with us until he turned 18. He treated him like family, paid for clothing and gave him money to go out with us on the weekends. When the kid turned 18 he joined the military.
there is so much... my dad was such a good man. I can't believe he is gone.
Sorry for the rant...
