Looking out the window at the bay today and thinking of Dad, because I can’t look out there and not.
There’s a bay full of sailboats in a sailing-crazy town … and he was one of the first people in this town to own one just to sail around in for fun with his friends, a 31 foot Tahiti ketch built locally in 1940 of oak and fir, 9 tons.
There’s a huge marina full of sailboats … and he was one of the Port Commissioners saying yes, they absolutely should make it that big, they weren’t crazy, it would fill up, and they got it built.
I see maintenance yards full of work employing people … and he not only wanted all that space, he wanted more on the other side of the highway too.
There’s a plane on the way to the airport … dad was a flyer, and he loved to say that he knew mom must have really liked him because she was still willing to date him after coming to his house and finding his dining room full of a wing he was rebuilding for the plane he and his buddy Bob had crash-landed.
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There’s a mill he spent most of his working life in, still sending people to work. I’ll always remember his advice when heading to my first summer of mill work to pay for college: “If they offer you overtime, you say yes. Always say yes, then you’ll always be working.” Not sure it was good for my summer social life, but it sure was good as a work ethic and it paid for a huge chunk of an education that wasn’t cheap.
There’s a world out there full of people who seem to think that yelling and calling names is strength, that putting down women or people from somewhere else or people who don’t look like you is strength … he showed me that none of that is strength. Somebody who yells every day is not strong. If you heard Dad raise his voice, it was unusual enough to get your attention right away. Even if he hadn’t been part of a conversation for 10 minutes, he was listening, and when he gave his opinion you knew he’d really thought about it.
Reading a book on the voyages of Captain Cook that I found in a storage box, faded yellow pages 40 years old. I know he must have read it, because he loved that kind of tale, so I’m reading it and thinking of you today, Dad.
