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“Measurable”
“Teri says call her,” my wife relayed to me deplaning the aircraft in Reno. It was 9:30 p.m. “Oh no, he’s gone,” I thought as I dialed the phone. My dad was on final and I was vigorously trying to get to Carson City Nevada before he passed. This trip from Virginia had been a series of stressful legs as each time I hit the ground I would check my phone to see his status. In Reno, it turned out they were sending Daniel, my nephew and Carson City Sheriff, for me so he could whisk me to Carson quickly. My wife would stay, gather the luggage, and follow on with my sister’s husband. My dad was hanging on.
I linked up with Daniel and made the 25-minute drive in 12 minutes. Arriving at my dad’s apartment I gave Daniel a hug and moved to the back room where my dad was in a hospice-supplied medical bed. He was not conscious. We had been giving him morphine in decreasing time intervals for a day now and he now was at 15-minute intervals. I hugged my sister Teri and my niece Meliah and sat on the edge of my dad’s bed. Holding his hand, I told him I loved him, that I forgave him for his shortcomings as a dad, and asked for forgiveness for my shortcomings as a son. It was settling. My wife arrived about 30 minutes after me and joined the fray. We then all sat in this room for the next 40 minutes. It is as if he was satisfied that we were all there and everything was OK. His breathing intervals slowed then around 11 p.m. Tuesday, 6 December, he passed.
My sister and her family endured the brunt of his care for the previous two years. He had multiple health issues, including dementia. We slowly took almost all of his autonomy as he no longer could manage. He thought he was going to live fast and die young (don’t we all…). Humorously he’d been telling us he was only going to live another five years tops since he was sixty – he turned eighty-six in May 2022.
Richard “Rick” Howe was born May 16, 1936, to Carl and Eleanor (O’Malley) Howe in Clinton, MA. Notably Clinton, at the time, had 2 stoplights and 42 bars. No kidding. He spent his childhood among seemingly an entire small town filled with his family, mostly living on the same street. The neighborhood was filled with Irish and Italian immigrants. Rick graduated high school in 1954 and immediately joined the U. S. Army serving as a paratrooper in the legendary 82nd Airborne. In May 2015 we attended my son’s airborne graduation making three consecutive generations of paratroopers. It was a proud moment when we both pinned on his wings.
After his service in 1957, he returned to MA and attended Brandeis University for a time. Due to his wandering spirit, he left college after a year and hitchhiked his way across the entire US finally settling in Oakland, CA ultimately working at a tomato canning plant. While working in CA, his friends asked if he’d ever been to Tahoe to see the beach, the snow, the gambling and the girls. He had not. Rick promptly headed to Tahoe on a weekend Greyhound junket. And the rest, they say, is history. Rick began working in the casino business in 1957. He started parking cars, eventually going to Dealer’s School for ‘21,’ then morphing into a superb craps dealer. He went from parking cars to working literally every position a casino man could have; including, Pit Boss, Shift Manager, Floor Manager, and eventually became the Casino Manager of Resorts International historically opening its doors in Atlantic City, New Jersey in 1978. He was also a Casino Manager at Playboy Hotel and Casino, and again in Las Vegas at Bally’s Casino.
In his early years in Tahoe, he was an avid skier until he broke his leg skiing in waist-deep powder. There was a fallen tree beneath the powder and a branch went into and out of his leg, breaking his femur enroute. I remember him pulling tiny slivers of wood from his leg decades later. Dad enjoyed tennis, golf, and all sports, especially football. Rick LOVED dogs (nine over his lifetime if our count is right), and lived with Deuce, his second Queensland Blue Healer, for 14 years who passed only months before him.
We described dad as fastidious, intelligent, witty, a flirt (having girlfriends in his apartment complex the entire 10 years there), and an avid, erudite reader. He reveled in learning and was interested in history of all kinds. His favorite book was ‘Gates of Fire,’ an historical novel about the Battle of Thermopylae. A book I shared with him and we enjoyed together.
He completed his life in Carson City, Nevada, surrounded by the Sierra Nevada Mountains and walking the Carson River trails with his beloved Deuce.
He married twice and is survived by three children, eight grandchildren, and 12 great-grandchildren.
During the last 48 hours of my dad’s life, my niece took care of him never leaving his side. During one of his lucid moments, she told him he was a good father. His semi-coherent reply was “measurable.” I can’t argue. Nevertheless, I loved him and honor thy mother and father is a command, not a option.
Rest in Peace, Dad.
Bless. I’m very sorry for your loss. Rest in peace, dajoho’s dad.
Superb post, dajoho. Prayers for you and your family.
A lovely tribute, dajoho. Thanks for sharing his story. Prayers to all.
Thank you for introducing us to your father, may he rest in peace. Also, allow me to offer my respect for the family that took care of him.
Beautifully written. Condolences to you and your family. How wonderful they were able to take care of him.
May you feel the support of your friends and family as you mourn your father. He seems like quite a guy.
Sorry for you loss.
Peace be upon you and your family that God can provide.
Peace be with you. May your father rest in perpetual light.
A lovely tribute.
I once went on a tour of the old Colonial Press in Clinton, Massachusetts. The tour guide told us that Clinton was so Irish that the city shut down, including the press, for three days every Saint Patrick’s Day. :) Only the bars remained open.
It’s in a beautiful part of the state.
Thanks She. It was sad but not tragic nor unexpected.
Thanks Percival, we are doing fine it was coming for some time now.
Thanks SQ. He was a very interesting man particularly when he spoke of his time in the casino business. We tried to get him to co-write a book but he didn’t bite.
Thanks Doug. It was a long road over the last couple of years. He never gave up hope, kept saying “when I get past this….”
Thanks Blondie. It was wonderful. One of his requests was to not die in a hospital and we are glad that he passed in his apartment of the last 10 years. We moved his bed so he could see the snow mountains behind his complex.
Thanks AUMom. He was. His exploits in the Casino business were amazing. If only we could have gotten him to write a book.
Thank you Bryan. We are doing good, sad but not tragic is how we are terming it.
Thanks Clavius. We all agree he is at peace now, he never quit fighting right up to the end.
Thanks MarciN. “Only the bars remained open.” That about sums it up. I used to hear wild stories about his crazy uncles that would get liquored up and shoot at each out with .22’s – good old fashioned fun.
Sorry for your loss . . .