A Father's Influence
You've probably experienced it from time to time. A certain scent or taste triggers a flood of memories from long ago that suddenly become vivid. Or perhaps you hear a certain song on the radio and suddenly you are transported in time to a special event, a first kiss, or a loved one's embrace.
Sometimes, even a particular sensation will do the trick. For example, when I experience the sensation of bone-chilling cold followed by the delicious warmth of a cup of hot chocolate, I feel like a young boy of 9 again, sitting next to my Dad at Tiger Stadium in Baton Rouge, watching our LSU Tigers play football. Tiger Stadium is an intimidating place even for grown-ups (Bear Bryant used to say it was like entering the Roman Coliseum), but for a youngster to whom everything is already big, it was sheer sensory overload. The crowd didn't merely cheer. The very ground shook as tens of thousands of tiger fans roared and stomped their support. And the band! Hundreds of musicians turning toward the stands and practically blasting us out of the place with the ominous first notes of "Hold That Tiger." It sent chills down my spine as the sound coursed right through me. It was a little nerve racking for me at that age, but I could see that Dad was not at all worried. In fact, he was delighted. If he was in his element, then so was I.
At about that same period in time, Dad agreed to teach me to play golf. He and I and my junior golf clubs were on the course one especially hot Louisiana day, when I drank too much water from the fountain. I was too young to know better and in short order, I felt just awful. Dizzy, nauseated, sweating heavily, and suddenly very weak, I plopped down in the middle of the course, not knowing what to do, and began to cry. But Dad didn't patronize me, nor did he chastise me. I remember him kneeling down and gently asking me how I felt, and I told him. Then he asked if I ever saw the professional golfers on television sit down on the course and cry. Well, no, come to think of it, I never saw them do that. Then he asked if I ever saw an LSU Tiger sit down and cry. Good heavens no! "Then what do you think you should do?" I got up, picked up my clubs and resumed play. A parent never really knows when or how a particular lesson will sink in, but that day I learned a lesson about fortitude, about getting a "second wind," and about perseverance. It was a big lesson for a little guy, but it stayed with me throughout a career in the armed forces.
I remember Dad giggling the first time I fired a shotgun. I couldn't have been more than ten or eleven, and he said my eyes crossed from the recoil. At least that's what I think he said. We didn't use ear plugs. But the marksmanship skills he introduced me to paid dividends years later when I fired weapons including the M-60 machine gun and the shoulder launched LAW rocket, among others.
I remember riding in Dad's blue mustang one afternoon talking about faith, about right and wrong. I was still very young, but I remember him telling me that I had two basic choices in life. When circumstances tested my principles (and he assured me they would), I could back down, go along to get along, and enjoy a quiet life. On the other hand, if I wanted adventure and excitement, all I had to do was stand up for what is right. He assured me that if I chose that path, I would never be bored. Of course, he was right about that one as well. Thanks to his influence, boredom has not been a problem.
And I'm still learning from him now. Dad went on the road with me just last winter. We were in Pennsylvania when a particularly nasty winter storm dumped a couple of feet of global warming all over the place. We stepped inside a restaurant for some hot soup, and our waitress was a surly old gal who made Don Rickles look like Mother Teresa. She made some curt remark to Dad, and I wondered how he would handle it. Instead of responding in kind, he smiled and said, "You are so nice!" That caught her off balance, at which point he added, "I'm sooo glad we drove all this distance just to see you!" Well, that broke the ice, and we all got along famously. Sometimes humor is the most effective weapon.
Walking back to the truck through the ice and snow, I couldn't help but remember how Dad used to keep a watchful eye on me when I was a child to make sure I didn't fall down and hurt myself. Years later, I'm watching him as we walk over the ice, ready to assist if he slips. He turned 70 yesterday. The cycle of life moves on and we all move with it. But somewhere deep inside the recesses of my heart, I'm still that 9 year-old boy sitting in Tiger Stadium, sipping hot chocolate from a thermos and looking up in admiration and pride at my hero, my friend, my Dad. Happy Father's Day.
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Comments :
May '10
Re: A Father's Influence
Nicely said, Dave. My recurring father memory is sitting next to my dad as he drove, and without saying a word, he'd lay his hand on the seat between us, I'd put my little hand in his big hand, and so we would drive, not a word being exchanged. Now as a father myself, I do the exact thing running errands in my pickup with one or the other of my kids. If my father passes nothing else on, creating this happy tradition will make his a life well-lived. Happy Father's Day.
May '10
Re: A Father's Influence
Lovely post, Dave. Didn't realize you grew up in Baton Rouge. My grandfather is from there, and if I'm lucky our father's day dinner tonight will involve his okra or fish stew or some other delicious cajun dish.
My fondest memories growing up are playing sports with my dad -- I still vividly remember the first time I beat him at tennis, and then basketball, and I'm sure I'd remember golf too, except it hasn't happened yet. The guy can go a year without playing, step on a tough course, and shoot 80. Thanks for evoking the memories.
May '10
Re: A Father's Influence
Your post unleashed a torrent of memories of my own dad that I am grateful for. I enjoyed an idyllic childhood as he made time amidst his police officer job and a side business. I never feared him. He was good-hearted and there to play catch and talk about things. I did fear disappointing him when I was selfish, unkind, or dishonest with anyone.
Life’s not perfect and my parents’ divorce while I was in college really threw me for a loop. Dad and I had our disagreements and epics of silence but we’re on better terms now, making up for lost years. His legacy will be lived out through generations as I developed faith in God and avoided quite a few bad situations when his sage advice of yesteryear rang in my brain. His deliberate, conscious relationship with me as a kid instilled in me that instinct to be the same to my girls and my son.
We’ll all affect generations to come for good or bad through our kids. Take a look at the book Letters from Dad by Greg Vaughn for proof. I'm blessed my dad ensured I wouldn't have that author's experiences. Thanks for posting Dave!
Re: A Father's Influence
You had me until you said LSU Tigers.
Roll Tide. Yes, you heard me. Roll Tide.
Jun '10
Re: A Father's Influence
Do I dare comment on what memories this brings for me? Good ole Dave Carter, what on earth could I say about you? Well how about the first time I was on the road with you during Driver's Appreciation Week? You were very greatful that they had such a thing! And made a point of telling the entire O.C. about it that night. Oh and when were bought bananas at a truck stop, you weren't leaving without making a scene to show how much you wanted those bananas!
Memories on the road with you! Those are always the best. Although lately, it has been you great hearing, or lack there of. What I say and what you think you hear are so far from eachother, I can't help but laugh!
So what's the best thing about my dad? About trucking Dave Carter? His total honesty and his humor!
Love you Daddy!