"He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it."
- Clarence Budington Kelland
Here's a photo of my dad, Fred, probably taken about the time
my mom's photo was taken. He's leaning on a bicycle with a steering wheel, next to an engine that he was overhauling. In the 50's and 60's, the existence of a 'daddy' way of childrearing was not recognized as it is today and at least in my memory, my dad communicated through his main interest: the automobile.
His work during the day was at his repair garage or out at night on a "trouble call". He left early and came home just before dinner and he knew the condition of nearly everyone's car. When I wanted to ride with some friends to watch a football game in Kohala, he quickly said, "No, her tires aren't good enough for the trip." That was it, but he took the day off to drive me all the way to the game, along with a few other girlfriends.
When I was old enough for my driver's license, Fred decided that I needed to learn how to parallel park, the day before my road test! I remember him standing in the drizzling rain in the Konawaena School parking lot as I bumped into imagined parked cars, over and over until he thought I was ready. Luckily, I wasn't asked to perform it for my road test, which I passed. He bought me a used '57 Chevy.
As the owner of a service station, he took an interest in hiring the disabled: a man with a missing arm and another who could not hear or speak. Some years later, when I was about to place a classified ad in the local paper for an autobody repair
manperson, Fred said to ask for a man or woman. "A woman can do just as much as a man in this job."
Although he didn't deliver any long lectures, his terse one sentence comments and directions were totally consistent. Just by watching him move through his life I felt protected, cared for and loved.
More articles on Dads and Parenting:
The Importance of Dads in the lives of Children
Father Facts