Tribute to a great man. . . . .

Twenty-two years ago today, our family lost it's guidepost; it's role model; it's captain. Twenty-two years ago today, my father passed from this life into his eternal rest. And I still miss him, every single day. I'm certain that we all do.

My earliest memories of my father center around our visits to his parents (Nana and Alfred), who lived in the Parkchester Apartments, in New York city. My dad would take me for walks around the neighborhood and show me where my grandfather once had his livery stables and to the newsstand/tobacco shop, where we would get the papers and penny candy! Those were formative times that 'introduced' me to the man who would so influence the rest of my life.

After he left the air force (then, the army air corps), he and my mom spent a few precious civilian years in New York and New Jersey, adding both my older sister and myself to the family. Then, the government came calling again, needing his special talents on some secret level, and we all moved to Arlington, Virginia, as dad began yet a new career, at the Pentagon. It being the height of the cold war, the nature of his work was something he could never discuss with us, but we knew that he traveled to faraway places, like Germany and France, and I was intrigued! (He even brought back authentic French bikini bathing suits for my mom, my sister, and I, and we were 'scandalous' as we sunbathed in our own backyard!!)

I remember the hours dad would spend, making sure that every branch of our Christmas trees were perfectly symmetrical -- and to mom's liking! He would even cut whole branches off one side and drill a hole to re-insert a branch in another side, skillfully filling an 'unsightly' bare spot. He was a patient man. And a perfectionist!

I remember, too, the many stories my father would tell us. . . .often about some famous people he knew! He was college buddies with none other than Kirk Douglas (and even gets a nod in the actor's autobiography "The Ragman's Son"), at St. Lawrence University. He bowled with the fabulous Bette Davis, while she was on a USO tour, in England. And Winston Churchill's daughter, Sarah, had a mad crush on him during his WWII tour of duty outside of London! What a fun and full like my father had!

He was a man of passionate commitments, too, and taught us all that
dignity was far more important than any bank account or new car. He was a life-long Mason, and was understandably proud of his association
with that group.
Things I remember most about my father: His love of 'Dagwood' style sandwiches (sardines, tomato, onion, and mustard with orange marmalade on top!) and the fun he had sharing them with unsuspecting grandchildren! The go-kart he bought for my brother, which we all learned to 'drive' with. . . .and learned how to steer out of a skid with! Bowling! From the time when we were just little kids, until just before his death, my dad loved to bowl. (One of the best laughs I ever had was when he somehow didn't get his fingers out of the ball and he followed it, head-first, right down the lane. . . .pocket change flying all the way down to the pins!!) His guiding words (by Abe Lincoln): "I cried because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet." Having the courage to start a new business, while raising a family with four kids, from a basement hobby to a respected manufacturing corporation known as RAM Industries. He and my mother (and, occasionally, the kids and/or grandkids) taking off on adventures in his huge Pace Arrow motor home!




Things I miss most about my father: His hugs. His stern expectations, tempered by his strong confidence in himself, his loving wife, his rag-tag kids, his beloved grandchildren, and the world in general. Hearing his voice calling me 'kiddo'. Everything.

Twenty-two years ago today, my father passed from this life. In the twenty-two years ever since, he has never left my heart.