Conference quark::mennotes

    I always remember him being able to do about 5 one armed pullups. The
    real kind with one arm hanging at your side.
    
    I could never do any no matter how hard I tried...
    
    Steve

    I remember mine giving me a ride on the running board of his 50ies
    caddi. And a storm looming across the tall fields of corn. Dark greens
    and darker grays. And his hand on me, with comfort and adventure of a
    child riding on a running board to the house before the storm. Where
    life was warm, safe, and sheltered.
    
    

    I can remember my Dad teaching me how to shoot a 22. on my Grandfather's
    farm at the age in 1959. All of 5 years old. The noise was scary, but I 
    learned something that day, which made me feel grown up.

    I remember waking up in the middle of the night to go wee and seeing my
    father passed out sitting on the toilet. I found later that if one
    drank 24 beers every night for 18 years this could sometimes happen.

    
    Dad died in '73 of smoking too many cigarettes, too many farm
    chemicals, and too much stress. I didn't always agree with what Dad
    did.  As I've grown older, I still don't agree with everything he did,
    but I have a lot better understanding about _why_ he did it.  Mostly
    just trying to the best he knew how under the circumstances.  I can
    honestly say that I never saw him do anything that he knew wasn't the
    right thing to do at the time.  Doing what was right was more important
    to him than the gain that might be had otherwise.  Dad, and Mom,
    managed to raise 11 kids on a dust-bowl farm/ranch to be fairly decent
    people.  Most of us with families of our own and none of us on welfare. 
    Maybe that's what is really important after all.

    fred();

    I learned about heart from my father. He's a big, gentle, man and so am
    I. He never says much (he's still alive, but very sick), but let's his
    actions speak for him.
    
    I grow to have more respect for him every day. He's also hilariously
    funny without trying to be. My dad gave me a wonderful present this
    year. For the first time in my life, when I asked him "What do you want
    for your birthday this year?", he didn't say "Oh, I don't know, I don't
    need anything".
    
    First he said "I'd like 63 more years to live". To which I answered,
    "Yeah, I hear ya. But what do you want that I can *give* to you now?".
    He went on to tell me how all the retired men he meets for coffee have
    new jackets. "Yes, a new jacket - green, that's what I want". 
    
    May sound small to you, but it was huge to me.
    
    jeff
    
    PS. My dad has emphysema from smoking. He can't quit and it's literally
    killing him. He's shown me, indirectly, that he is afraid. For me, that
    was good to know that it's "OK" to be afraid as a man. The men I saw on
    TV always looked fearless. Another gift dad gave me was honesty about
    that.
    

    My dad died last December.
    He was wonderful. 
    
    He immigrated from Ireland as a boy, grew up here in depression
    times with my grandmother and 3 siblings.
    
    He was a Marine in the Pacific during WWII; came back, married and 
    raised 5 childen.
    
    He worked as an electrician most of his life constructing electrical
    power distribution centers and power plants all over New England.
    
    He could build, fix or do anything he set his mind to.
    
    He took great pride in his work and he taught me to see the joy
    that can result from work and a completed job.
    
    He loved to laugh and party. He hiked in the Andes and traveled most
    of the globe in his retirement. He re-learned to speak Galic.
    
    He was a gentle, loving, firm and wonderful guide through life.
    
    I miss him a lot.
    

    
    what nice things all of you have to say about your dads, I
    can appreicate them. thanks for telling us.
    BR

    re 176.8 
    not a very democratic statement. dont worry i'm not offended.
    

    
    What am I missing???
    
    
    
    BR

    this will be my 5th father's day since dad died.  I still miss him,
    particularly when hiking this time of year.  We always used to ride
    horses on trails enjoying the beginnings of the season before the
    horseflies got too bad.  
    
    I remember his encouraging me in math and sciences and taking me along
    to be his field tech when doing water, earth, and vapor samples.  He
    knew where "wild" asparagras grew along the ditch bank of a reactor,
    and he and I would bring home  "glow in the dark" spears to enjoy. 
    (Asparagras was "wild" in that it hadn't been cultivated, but had been
    washed there 10 years before when a flood ran through a seed company.)
    
    I also remember fresh milk right from the cows when he was working on
    background checks in milk as well.  
    
    Dad didn't hunt, but when I took it up 10 years ago, he was more than
    supportive, sending me tips, and gear.  
    
    I really miss him.
    
    meg

    Meg:
    
    Nice story. Did the asparagus *really* glow? Is the National Enquirer
    aware of this?
    
    BR:
    
    I dunno, I missed it too. Oh well.
    
    jeff

The most memorable story I have...

I was about 10 years old..  My oldest sister Donna had just gotten married
to her High School sweetheart (lenny) , and they had just moved to Maryland
where he was at the time, stationed (Andrews A.F.B)  

We (Me, Mom, Dad) had gone down to Maryland for an August visit with Lenny's 
folks.

The first night we got there, we (Lenny, my Dad, Lenny's Dad and myself)
had gone to the park where there was a pool and a basketball hoop..

I remember it being BLISTERING hot, and we went swimming, then to starting
playing OUT or something like that..

Well, I guess the fast foods from the trip had been too much for my dad,
out of nowhere, he's just got to get to a bathroom..  Being after dusk,
all the care-takers of the park had left for the day, and the building 
where the rest rooms were was locked...  by the time we find this out,
Dad's really getting nervous,,  It's probably a 3 minute walk back to
my sisters place, (which we were about to find out, it was a 1.5 
minute run!)

So here come's the four of us,, Dad in the lead, arms waving, muttering
words like,, "I AM NOT GONNA MAKE IT",, and, "Oh lord, please let the
bathroom be empty..."  Lenny and Lenny's Dad Burt, can barley run from
laughing...  Me, thinking my Dad's gonna die, am managing to keep
up with him...

As we approach Donna's apartment, (which thankfully was a ground floor
unit with a patio) Dad heads for the sliding doors as fast as I've
ever seen him run,,,,  

Evidently, in the gathering darkness, he never noticed the screen door was 
closed....  Until, of course, he ran through it.....

Seconds later,, there's Dad, doing this dance in Donna's living room,
holding the screen door..  by now, the lady's have picked up on
what the commotion was about, just at the same time Burt and Lenny
hit the patio...  everyone was in complete hysterics....

in the end, he made it, only casualty was the screen door, which was 
completely anhilated...  My mom was still laughing a week later while we
were driving home..  of course it was during that 12 hour trip back
from Maryland, that I came down with the Mumps...

Today Dad's in a nursing home fading away with Alzheimers,, I have
a lot of memories like this with Dad, he was a fun guy to be around,
and I know now that times like that night in Maryland stay with
you forever,, unlike your health which can go any time..  

I only hope my kids have a few fun memories like this when I'm
on the other side of life,,,,

/r

    
    
    My father passed away on Nov 6th 1994. He was a coach , teacher,
    	father of five and just a great guy. I spoke at his funeral
    	and here is what I said.
    
    
        There are many, many moments that I will remember spending with Dad,
        but there are two memories that will stay with me the longest.
        One is of Holy Cross and one is of family gatherings.

        Each year we would spend a two day football weekend at Holy Cross,
        but football was not the important part of the weekend.  We would walk
        around the beautiful Holy Cross campus and my father would have many
        stories to tell.  Some I was hearing for the first time and some I 
        heard many times before and I loved them every time I heard them.
        Last month we made one final trip to Holy Cross.  This one only lasted
        a few hours due to my father's illness but it's the one that I will
        remember most.



	There were three things I could count on hearing from my 
	father when the whole family would get together.

	First       : He would ask for everyone's attention and say
	              how happy and proud he was that the whole family could
	              be together at one time.

	second      : He would have a joke to tell.

	and finally : When it was time to leave he would stand outside,
	              wave and simply say "Safe home".

	Well Dad , there are three things I would like to say to you.


	First       : We are all here to say how much we love you.

	second      : Be careful which golf joke you tell St. Peter .

	and finally : Safe home , Dad , safe home.