Thursday, June 18, 2009


Dad and me in 1951
I'm sitting on the hood of his Cook Coffee Company
truck holding a sack of coffee.
This is a reprisal of the tribute to my dad I posted last year. I belong to an online forum called Heartwarmers ( which sends uplifting stories and thoughts to its members. Earlier this year, the managers of the forum asked members to send in stories for Father's Day. I sent mine but didn't hear a word from them, so I was shocked when they recently sent an email informing me they printed my story (edited a bit) and sent it to their members. I was humbled to receive many emails from people who read it. They shared some of their own memories and I made some new friends. Here's my tribute:
My dad didn’t hold prestigious jobs. The first position I remember Dad holding was as a Cook Coffee Company salesman. He drove an orange and brown panel truck and had a regular route on which he delivered packages of ground coffee to customers each week. There were times I was allowed to go on rounds with him and though I was only four or five at the time, I can remember holding a little bag full of coloring books, crayons, and a doll as we started our day. I felt so important. Mom would pack enough lunch for both of us and off we’d go. On those special days, I couldn’t imagine ever being happier than I was in those moments with my dad.

As our family grew, Dad needed a better paying job and went to work in a machine foundry. I don’t remember what was produced there, but I sometimes went to work with him and always came home covered with grease and grime from all the machines and the dirt floor under them. The foundry was located in the south end of town and was set back from the main road, so it was a common place for people to drop off unwanted animals. There were often litters of kittens or puppies abandoned there and of course the cowards who did the deeds were never seen nor heard. Dad and his co-workers did their best to make sure those animals had a chance in life. They would each take one from the litter and take it home. They never left an animal to fend for itself. I’m quite sure my love and compassion for animals comes from having my dad as an example and mentor.

The foundry closed with little warning and Dad had to find another job. We had just moved to another house and he hadn’t anticipated being out of work. He searched until he found something that would allow him to support our family of six. Dad’s official title at his new job was, “maintenance supervisor”, but some would have called him a janitor. It didn’t matter what the job was called, Dad took it seriously and worked proudly. He never minded going to work. He loved being able to provide for us.

There were times when it seemed all Dad did was work, sleep, and eat, and that seemed to leave little time for us. His new job required him to work the second shift, so he was getting ready to leave the house when we arrived home from school. The weekends were the best times with him. I now realize he must have been tired from working all week, but he made some time to play with us.

After graduation, I left home for nursing school and it was Dad who helped me get through the nights of intense studying. He worked just a mile or so from my dorm and would either call me or I’d call him and plead with him to come get me out of there for a little while. There were nights he took me to Isaly’s for ice cream. It never dawned on me that he might not have the time or the funds to do so. Years later, I learned he had to make up the time he’d been gone from work to be with me.

One night in particular, he and I stopped at a Kresge store and he bought me an amber colored mug for my dorm room. It wasn’t expensive, but I loved it and it resides in my kitchen cupboard to this day. He also bought me a small blue hand towel with which to decorate my tiny dorm bathroom. He never wanted to take me back to the dorm without giving me a few dollars since I had no money of my own and little time to earn any. He once offered me the last two dollars he had. I took one and insisted he keep the other. I told him if we each had one dollar, neither of us would be broke. He liked that.

When I was in nursing school, I had no idea he would so soon be gone. I graduated as an RN in 1971 and Dad suffered a fatal heart attack at work one cold February night in 1972. A few months earlier, he had been smiling as he walked me down the aisle and I married my beloved. I remember being scared and nervous before we started our walk. He leaned over and said, “Don’t worry, your ol’ dad is right here for you”, and so he was.

During his funeral, many people related stories about how Dad had loaned them money (though he had little himself), or how he’d fixed a flat tire for someone at work. We heard how he put in good words for others who sought jobs at his workplace. Whether his superiors needed someone to pick up luggage at the airport or paint their homes, Dad was the first to volunteer. He was even known to take people home from church while we waited for him to come back afterward and get us. We weren’t always happy about the choices he made, but we always knew his heart was in the right place.

Thank you Dad, for knowing what was important in life. You were strong in your faith and strong in your relationships with family. You were generous to a fault and always very compassionate toward people and animals. Though you didn’t have a college education, you had great “people skills”. I know you genuinely loved your family and friends and felt comfortable talking to anyone. I still marvel at how you were able to put others at ease with your sense of
humor. You had a work ethic that surpassed any I’d ever known, and you didn’t just do the job for which you were hired. You went the extra mile for anyone who needed your help.

Thank you for teaching me, by your example, that people are worth the effort, that animals need to be loved and cared for, and that hard work blesses one’s life. Thank you for all the times you were strict and all the times you weren’t. I know you were trying to teach me to be a kind and decent person and though I still have a lot to learn, I hope I’ve made you just a tiny bit proud. I love you, Dad, and I miss you more than words can express.


Marie said...

Wonderful story about your dad. Isn't it great to have a dad that you loved and are so proud of!

Kady said...

Thank you Marie. I guess as kids we think our dads will live forever. I sitll miss mine a lot. I think of so many things he's missed and so many opportunities we've missed with him. But life has to go on and we have to do the best we can.....Kady