On September 7th, my dad will be 86 years old. It is hard for me to comprehend all of that. He was my current age in 1991. In 1991, I was still an engineer for McDonnell Douglas and spending most of my free time doing very short term things drinking beers with buddies, staying out too late, going to Vegas, going to Kentucky Derbies. But really just the pursuit of short term fun. I now have a legacy of a couple things I have been involved with for years both in Biloxi and in Uganda, and now in the streets of St. Louis. I plan to be at North Tech for many more years and I hope to impact my students there.
When my dad was my age, his life was pretty well complete. Due to his position as a National officer for the Airline Pilots Association, he had pretty much stopped flying, he was a grandfather already and certainly more were on the way. My dad at my current age was at the top of everything, he was flying internationally to be the United States representative for Air Line Pilots. He was winding down more than one decade of leadership as a national representative. Before my dad was elected to national office it was unheard of for a pilot from a small town hub airline, Ozark, to hold national office. Somehow he did it, I think he worked hard and was trusted and at the time was a spark and a fire brand to make sure pilots were treated well and not mistreated by the robber barons who were intruding on the airline industry.
It was fun being at the National Conventions for pilots and seeing the esteem and the admiration that he had amongst his peers for his work an his leadership, but if I truly think back on it, it is the small lessons he taught me that stood out. My dad from Candyland on never let us win a game that he was competing in. To beat my dad at Risk or Monopoly was truly an accomplishment and something I still treasure. My dad was a great neighbor, the community that they built on Holyoke and Apple Valley and Pebble Hill still stands up today. The numbers are getting smaller, but they are still friends with people they met as neighbors in 1962 or 1963. Most of all they were always willing to help a neighbor. Today, my great neighbor, Alfred from Ghana, alerted me to a tree problem I now have in the back. I imagine sometime this week, the two of us will try to bring the branch down. I remember my brother Tom and I being awakened too early on a summer morning just like this week and being told to go to the Leonard's lawn and start sawing up their downed tree into small pieces. I know my dad and mom payed the SLUH tuition of a neighborhood kid when times were tough for that family. I am now toying with the idea of letting that person know of my parents' generosity.
My dad started his own charity to give money to 3 priests we knew that were doing missionary work and local work in Arkansas. He just kind of started it and found ways to support these 3 priests and sometimes more. It still kind of goes on today.
If I could go back in time, I might just choose to have dinner with my dad at the same age. Mary, John , Tom, and Katie he did a pretty good job. All of my siblings have great families and their willingness to help others is always prevalent. When my dad lived 4 days a week in Washington, D.C. I would occasionally visit just by myself. I remember going to Congressional hearings and tooling around D.C. by myself as he worked and then ending the evening at the Dancing Crab or the Chesapeake Crab House.
I remember being in awe when I heard of the Senators and Congressmen he had met. And I also remember asking him at a very young age, "Isn't Ted Kennedy great?" My dad answered quit quickly and succinctly. "John, Ted Kennedy lived his whole life never having to worry where his next dollar is coming from, never worrying about how he would feed his family. He is a good man, but I trust a man who has known the struggle more."
I know very kind and nice people, and people who do the very best for their children, but we must not forget our parents and grandparents almost always went through the struggle. I sometimes think I have gone through the struggle when my furnace goes out, when my tree branches hang precariously in my back yard.
My father paused before breakfast to be visible in his Faith and visible about praying in public. Something both he and my mother now do. Sometimes when they do it, I still feel a tinge of awkwardness like someone might think I am not cool. (boy I hate those feelings.)
So here is how I will end this piece on my father. I am going to think about those on the border separated from their children. My dad's charity, Sons of St. Dominic Savio, helped Father Dorsey and these families in Arkansas. So I am going to think about these families just trying how to figure out how to do the best for their families, and I am going to pray OUT LOUD for them.
My father (and mother) taught me these words so long ago, "Our Father....
Beautiful piece, John!
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