To listen to all the garbage being flung around about men, you would think that they really are pigs. Well, in some cases that might be true, but I would like you to know about MY FATHER.
He was born on Jan 24 1933, in the City of Detroit, MI. He was born in a house on Shady Lane Ave, which is on the west side near Clark Park. It was a rather quick birth, and my grandparents being recent immigrants from Poland and Gernany really couldn't afford a doctor at the time.
My dad had a strong work ethic; his first job, which he got when he was 9, was on a milk truck before he went to school. Later on, when he got married, he always had 2 jobs to make ends meet.
In 1957, He got married for the first and only time to my Mom for 22 yrs.
On the last day of 1959, a baby girl was born, and sadly died. Her name was to be Janet. She is buried at Forest Lawn Cemetary on Van Dyke Ave in Detroit.
In November of 1960, I was born, a healthy 8 lbs and 10oz at Harper Hospital in Detroit. You know what my name is.
In February of 1965, My sister Marlene was born. She weighed in at 6lbs, 10 ozs, and was born at the same hospital.
In 1968, he became a homeowner, and insisted on sending his children to private schools, even though it meant a second job.
In 1957, my dad went sailing on the Great Lakes. He learned to be a steam engineer while being an Oiler. Later, in 1965 just after Marlene arrived, Dad got a job with the Detroit Public Schools because he felt that his children were more important than a job that took him away for long periods of time. He returned to the lakes briefly, but hung it up for good on Oct 31 1975.
In 1976, he was awarded a Novice class ham license, and became a 33rd degree Mason. He also was involved with the Boy Scouts,& a volunteer for the Red Cross, and he help raise a lot of money for his pet charity, the Shriners Hospitals. Despite his busy schedule, he could always be counted on to donate some of his time to a worthy cause.
In 1978, he was working at Ford Motor Company's Rouge Complex. He loved the idea that he got to tinker with Henry Ford's powerplant. He could fix just about anything that was broken, or would find someone who would if he couldn't. I strongly believe that my dad, had he made it to the computer age, would own a laptop, and a few hundred others that needed repair. And I am also pretty sure that he would've loved Compact Disks, because when he did have a moment to himself, he could be found listening to Opera, The Barber of Seville being his favorite. An iconoclast, he defiantly drove his beloved and rusty 1976 Chevy Beauville Van even while working at Ford.
On the night of March 24 1979, some fool hit ran into my father as he was crossing the street. He broke both legs. A month later, he was dead.
When someone says fathers don't count, I just cringe. I cannot imagine not knowing my Dad. He was not a handsome man, nor was he rich in monetary terms. But I can tell you that my sister and I were both loved beyond measure, because he made sure that his wife and his kids were well cared for and wanted for nothing. He gave up a lot for us, and there is just no way that I can repay him.
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