G.A.O. 1903 - 1956

Today, in the United States, it is Father's Day.

Back in April, on the 90th anniversary of my mother's birth, I wrote a little squib about her.

Unfortunately, I have few memories of my father. He died when I was ten, of complications related to tuberculosis, for which then, there was no real cure. His last three years were spent in a TB sanitarium because TB was and is a contagious disease.

So, I was seven when he essentially disappeared from my life. Oh, I could wave to him through a window, and we sometimes talked on the telephone, but I was just a little girl.....

Even my mother was only allowed two short visits a week and was traumatized by her semi-widowhood. Not a happy time for us.

The memories I do have are superlative in their detail and clarity, but more about them later.

My father's own father died when he was two, and his own childhood was fraught with poverty and uncertainty. Daddy was extremely smart, however, and whatever he put his hand and mind to, he could do. He never finished high school, but went to work in a corset factory at 15 to help support his family. In addition, he fell in love with flying and learned to pilot a plane while still in his teens. He was a barnstormer and crop duster and traveled with a flying circus. Even without any degrees or courses in journalism, Daddy could write, and he was a newspaper reporter and editor for many years. He had his own byline when he worked for the Boston Globe.

During WWII, the US Navy hired him to teach flying. He wasn't actually in the Navy because of the TB, but was a contract pilot trainer. He was teaching in Massachusetts when he met my mother. After the war was over, he went back into the newspaper world. We lived for a couple of years in the Boston area, but then returned to Florida.

Now, those memories...... Daddy was smart, as I've said. He was also a bit of a wildman! Remember, he'd been a barnstormer and wing-walker....... Anything he did was done with great enthusiasm and zest.

One chilly night when I couldn't have been older than three, I remember being awakened and wrapped in a blanket. Daddy carried me outside to see an eclipse of the moon.

He did silly things like use one of my music boxes to 'charm' a small garter snake that lived in our garden. Also, one day he decided our bed pillows needed to be aired. In the process, one of the pillow ticks tore open and feathers went flying. We often had neighborhood children in our yard because life at our house tended to be exciting, and Daddy told the neighbor kids that the feathers were Florida snow!

When I was about four, Daddy had press passes for boxing matches at the Boston Garden. Those were the days of boxing greats like Rocky Graziano and Sugar Ray Robinson. Often, I would be the only little girl in the audience, sitting amongst the noisy, cigar chewing crowd.

He also did bold things. When I was about five, he bought an old car, took the engine all apart, laid all the pieces out on our dirt road, poured gasoline over the parts and set the whole thing on fire!! He wanted a quick way to clean all those parts, and it worked. Of course, it scared the neighbors half to death, but all's well that ends well, as they say....

For the two years prior to his going to the TB hospital, Daddy was home. Part of that time I wasn't in school yet, so we had lots of time together. He used to take me to our small local airport to visit the flying buddies he knew. He taught me how to tie my shoes, how to tell time, how to play five card draw poker, and how to play "Chopsticks" on the piano.
When I had measles, he sat with me in a darkened room and read to me endlessly.

Daddy built a bookcase I still have, he could play just about any musical instrument you handed him, he was teaching himself Russian to occupy his time in the hospital before he died, and he could cook the most amazing meals.

He wasn't in my life for very long, but it was high-quality time. It's hard not to wonder how different my life would have been had Daddy lived. His impact was great, however, and I do have my memories......

To fathers everywhere, and to all the men who stand in for absent dads........ I had a wonderful grandfather and his son, my uncle; some caring male teachers, as well as several family friends and neighbors during my growing-up years. And I would be remiss if I didn't include my darling father-in-law.

Love you, Daddy.....