One
evening in January 1987, I sat at the foot of my dad’s bed
and watched him write on a yellow legal pad. Cancer had stolen his voice. We carried on our conversation with a
notepad.
As he wrote, I noticed his hair, once black, had
turned almost completely gray. Parted neatly on the left side, it was a little
longer than usual, and somehow softer than I remembered.
I read his answer written in his beautiful
cursive—Catholic school training.
I quickly wrote my comment.
He took the pen and pad from me, smiled and jotted a
reply.
I looked down at the page. “You don’t have to write,
son. I can hear just fine.”
I nodded. “It just seems like the right thing to
do.”
That was the last conversation I had with my dad. He
lost his battle with cancer on January 25, 1987, a few months shy of his 57th
birthday.
While recently rearranging a bookcase, I discovered
a folder of letters that my father wrote to his parents, dated from September
17, 1968 through February 9, 1972. They lived in Inkster, Michigan. We lived in
Tampa, Florida. My grandparents had kept the letters and my parents had
inherited them. My mother passed the correspondence on to me.
As I poured over these colorful, illuminating snapshots
of our family life, I realized that there is a lot of truth in the saying, “the
more things change, the more they stay the same.” From gas prices to politics
to technology, my dad’s comments and observations ring as true today as they
did when he wrote them over forty years ago…
[including original grammar and misspellings]
August 30, 1968
“Never before have I watched the conventions, but this year I
have to say they were a riot. As soon as a speaker showed on the screen, I’d
switch channels and there would be the war in the street. Even the commentators
William Buckley on ABC threatened to hit Gore Vidal in his God damned face if
he didn’t shut up.
I had to take a couple hours off from drinking beer, and try
to explain to my sons why the Mayor of Chicago used the police force in the
manner which he did.
And there are intelligent people who write articles about how
the violence in the T.V. cartoons on Saturday morning are ruining our children.”
October 2, 1968
“If you think your state is the most mismanaged, then ours is
second. At least your governor comes home to say what he would have done. Ours
has been in residence maybe two months since he has been elected.”
September 1970
“Mom, with no reservations, I’ll admit you are right.
Michigan is in for a hard time. For that matter, I guess you could have mentioned
any state and picked the right one. Construction is on the downside here. I’m
O.K. because we have two big jobs. [Florida Steel Corp.]”
August 21, 1968
“Chris [my brother] caught his first fish. We now have a
fourteen inch long, one inch thick needle nose fish residing in the freezer
compartment of our refrigerator. It will reside there until word on how to
stuff or mount it comes from the Encyclopedia Co."
March 26, 1969
“Pa, I got together with David [family friend] and a
schematic from my encyclopedia co. and lo and behold we now have a radio
receiver tuned to the airport…it copies both tower and air traffic. It’s
transistorized and has a regenerative circuit and works on a nine volt battery.
How about that?”
October 2, 1968
“You mention people being able to fix things on their own.
Don’t forget nowadays most things can’t be fixed. They just get replaced.
Readers Digest article says everything can be classified one of two ways.
1.
Things that won’t work
2. Things that break
Much truth here.”
October 30, 1968
“Was looking at your date line mentioning leaves almost gone.
This reminded me I haven’t mentioned our last hurricane. Extent of damage to us
was four tangerines blown off the tree. But the wind did me a small favor and
blew most of the leaves into neighbor’s yard, so I didn’t have to rake them up.
The weather men really goofed on this storm as far as arrival
time and where it would touch land, etc. Only people reported injured were
those who took shelter in schools or were trying to reach public shelters. We
lost electric power for twenty minutes.
As poorly mismanaged as most things are here in Fla., I have
to take my hat off to the power companies. Their line crews work right through
the hurricanes. Right after the lights came back on, I looked outside and
rolling down the street were three line trucks and a supervisor’s car.”
August 23, 1969
“No hurricane damage here!!”
February 16, 1970
“Pollution wise, we have as much or more trouble than you
all. We had a factory owner poison a lake. One about the size of Wall Lake out
in Farmington [Michigan]. His defense is, that it is a free country. Him, I
don’t like. A professor from the University of South Florida tried to
save the fish by rigging up an old gas engine and pumping oxygen into the
water…The poor old engine couldn’t do the job. It was just too much for it. It
broke down and there are no available funds to carry out the project.
At the same time, we had a tanker spring a leak and dump I
don’t know how many gallons of oil in Tampa Bay…It started yesterday on the
radio. They were asking for volunteers to bring corn meal and card board boxes
to various centers. Today 900 students from St. Pete Jr. College were released
from classes to go wading in the oil slick waters rescuing sea gulls. The card
board boxes are used to transport the rescued birds to what is referred to as
foster homes, until the bay can be cleaned of oil. The corn meal is used to
clean oil from the feathers. It’s interesting to note that tonight you can’t
purchase a box of corn meal in the city of Tampa. All sold out. Kind of makes
the human race look a little bit humane.”
April 4, 1969
“Mom, I’m not familiar with what you have, but there must be
something the doctor can do to help you feel a little better. Maybe if you
changed doctors it would help. This one sure doesn’t seem to be doing much for
you. A vacation for the doctor isn’t much of a cure for the patient. I am glad
you feel a little better and hope and pray you get much better.”
April 17, 1969
“Pa, I caught the last few minutes of the “Galloping Gourmet”
when I was off sick the other day.”
July 16, 1969
“What a wonderful weekend it would be for Pa’s friend George
Droste. At last, men on the moon. One thing puzzles me, Pa, how did they manage
to do it without our help?”
September 4, 1969
“Would you believe, since Monday, I’ve been called upon to
diagnose the troubles of two record players, build a carrier for a drum on the
back of a bike, design a crest for a potential yacht club, translate a Spanish
lesson for the boy next door. Break a coded letter Keith sent his girlfriend.
Correct the copy and design three bulletins for Betty’s [my mom] employer at
the nursery. Not having much to do, we run over to the beach to get a sun tan
to impress Northerners. And I do a few water colors. In my spare time, I roll
cigarettes and drink beer. For a hobby, I work nine hours a day. Sometimes,
just for kicks, I write letters.”
Now that I’m older, and maybe wiser, I cherish the
opportunity these letters give me to glimpse my family’s life through my
father’s eyes. His letters, along with the quick, delightful notes my mom and
my younger brother Chris wrote, are an incredible gift.
I realized Jonathan Chaulk and McKenna Dupree from Madman Dreams would relish the discovery of letters from their
parents.
Some things never change.
