A Tribute to Fathers~~~and My Father

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life.

Back when I was a child, before life removed all the innocence My father would lift me high and dance with my mother and me and then
Spin me around ‘til I fell asleep
Then up the stairs he would carry me
And I knew for sure I was loved
If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him

I’d play a song that would never, ever end
How I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again

When I and my mother would disagree
To get my way, I would run from her to him
He’d make me laugh just to comfort me
Then finally make me do just what my mama said

Later that night when I was asleep
He left a dollar under my sheet
Never dreamed that he would be gone from me

If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him
I’d play a song that would never, ever end
‘Cause I’d love, love, love
To dance with my father again

Sometimes I’d listen outside her door
And I’d hear how my mother cried for him

I pray for her even more than me
I pray for her even more than me

I know I’m praying for much too much
But could you send back the only man she loved

I know you don’t do it usually
But dear Lord she’s dying
To dance with my father again

Every night I fall asleep and this is all I ever dream~~~LUTHER VANDROSS: DANCE WITH MY FATHER AGAIN

Dad~~~I saw in You, a Man. Through your actions---I realized a DETERMINATION. It is in your actions and behavior, that I formulated my sense of character, around. You were always a Man of CHARACTER; You only knew Hard Work. You minded your own business; you never 'hung' around drinking, playing cards, or mixing with "elements."
Of course, being a bit older now, and having seen---and have been a 'part' of how some of this world works, mixing with some elements developing 'connections' and networking---can be a good thing. This is why we, as a family on West Delavan Ave., always found ourselves on the other-side of the tracks, so-to-speak, because Dad just didn't 'know' anybody. In realizing this, going into my adult years, I was certainly going to TRY to add that 'element' of connections~~~to my persona.

And Dad~~~You understood figuratively---and literally---DRIVE. As a wounded warrior---you wouldn't stop. You, and your IBT brothers, gerry-rigged the steering wheel of a MACK TRUCK to continue to work while the hand was in a cast, and put food on the table.

It is in your strength Dad, that I allow myself to cry. I love you, Dad. This is My Father's Day Tribute, to You~~~and to all of those whom still hold deeply in their hearts, the better memories of their Fathers.

Some thoughts already expressed through the social-networking-site FACEBOOK:
Rose Spears---Beautiful tribute ...
Gloria Marconi---Yes indeed. I talk dad up all the time. I remember hearing him every morning at 7AM shuffling down the stairs to get ready for work. Friday after work we went to the grocery store and did food shopping. He cooked on the weekends to give mom a break. He was a gentle man in his way. He was all about family and he was a hard worker never complaining.
Leana Elam---I echo the sentiment. He was always there when we needed him most....Remember Glo, during those Sunday morning deliveries when the snow overpowered the cart and dad came through with the station wagon to get the papers on the customers front porch. He was a real trooper!!!!Love you dad.
Gloria Marconi---Yessiree!!!
Lou Marconi---This was like 1958; 1959---but I will never forget this. I don't even know if NY Workman's Comp was even available for him. He broke his hand husking freight at one of the driver-dock Trucking Companies that he was working at. He didn't sit on his ass, waiting forever for his hand to heal. He, and his cohorts, gerry-rigged the steering wheel so he could clutch, shift, and steer his Mack Truck that he was peddling freight in, all over the city.
Lou Marconi---That explains why the one finger of his left hand never healed properly.
Maria Mulder Herberger---Louie...He truly was a SUPERDAD...As a kid I was amazed at how he still went to work everyday. i can still see him making his way to the house...such strength and determination.. so much like yourself!

I feel the BELOW to an excellent reflection of a resourceful Father, regardless of what walk-of-life, he would work to blossom in, and how he would end up leaving HIS mark.

By Perry Nicholas

~~~AURA~~~

Everything smelled of paint thinner,
to some degree, around my father
and our house. A foreign perfume,
or a man’s spicy cologne.
It circulated down the driveway
from the beds of tired work trucks
to the can-full garage, through the yard,
never empty enough to play in.
There was a lone lilac bush
just on the other side of our fence,
begging me to breathe in her fragrance
every morning, but instead, I rose
before the others to inhale my father
as he loaded paint on the pickup
with one hand, pulled lovingly
on his non-filters with the other.
Cigarettes, paint fumes, and stale whiskey...
an intoxicating concoction of scents.
They followed him day and night,
and I respected his aura of thinner.
It hung everywhere in the air,
just as a father’s force lingers
forever heavy in a man’s life.
Strange how our jobs seep out
of us unnoticed, undetected
except to those who need us.
I wonder if I smell of lead pencils,
new paper, coffee, and chalk.


Ironic, huh Dad!?!? I ended up spending my adult-life~~~in the transportation industry. And ultimately, would end up carrying an IBT Union membership-card.
The apple~~~doesn't fall---FAR FROM THE TREE.
--{-=@
Hickok
The Promise

NB: While our USMC son, Philip was going through boot camp at Parris Isle, it wasn't always---blood and guts. Every now and again---they actually conducted DISCUSSION GROUPS. The theme of this one discussion group that he was a part of was~~~whom did you find to be the most influential person in your life.

Philip's response~~~"My Father."(eyes now watering)