My Dad turned 70 a couple of weeks ago. He still walks every night, putting a few miles a day on his sneakers. I think it's a great way to keep him fit and get some fresh air in the silence of night time in Maine. He also does a few crunches in the morning when he wakes before he goes downstairs for his coffee making ritual. I've recently reflected on his life because of that magic 7-0 and for those of you who know me, you may find some similarities between father and son.
Dad grew up in Lexington, MA, across from a park which turned into an ice skating rink in the winter. He played hockey, did chin ups, played in the woods and hills around his home, walked to school, played with kids from the neighborhood who are still life long friends of his and he kept a diary which he allowed me to read a decade ago. His childhood was magical. He won a new bike, listened to records, talked about girls, played sports, all the usual boy stuff and had a great family life.
When my Dad went to college he moved away from home and became the president of his fraternity. He was a good student and a very social teenager. He loved corvettes and actually owned one for a few years before having us kids. Dad also put in a couple years of service in the Navy. Though he never saw serious battle (thank God) he did get to travel the world. He was a navigator.
He met my Mom in Ocean Park, Maine where he had a summer cottage which is still part of our family 100 years later. They used to sit in circles on the beach and talk and laugh and listen to music back then. The beach was a gathering place during the day and at night it would be the Rec Hall for dances. My parents married in '68 and had 2 kids over the next couple of years. Growing up with my Dad and Mom was fantastic. I couldn't have asked for a better upbringing. They spent time thinking about where to settle and they picked Chelmsford, MA for it's quality schools. My Dad went to work everyday. He commuted through Boston traffic and put in a long day in Human Resources and then would come home and have a couple of Black Label beers (when I was young). This was kind of an after work ritual. On weekends we would watch Bruins hockey, eat peanuts and fondue in the family room and Dad was responsible for chopping wood for the wood burning stove. Bringing in wood from the pile was a chore for me early in my childhood. Dad would light the fire and about 50% of the time someone would have to man the front door to get the smoke out quickly before the detectors went off. That stove was a blessing, nothing better than taking off all our outdoor gear in the middle of winter and watching the steam come off our clothes as we warmed up by the fire.
In the summer we would spend a couple of weeks in Maine, my Dad would drive up on Wednesdays for the night and then on weekends he'd come into Ocean Park and we'd spend our Saturdays and Sundays at the beach, looking for sand dollars and crabs and eating lobster and Dad loved his steamers and still loves his baked haddock. In 1980 my Dad ventured on his own, leaving the job he knew so well to start his own business. As a family we'd discuss what to name the company and we'd go over different logo designs. We settled on Whittaker Associates and we even converted the garage into a large office with a sitting area and big desk by the front window so my Dad wouldn't have to commute and he could be there for lunch and dinner with the family. He was on the phone, drumming up business, East coast in the morning then calling the West coast at the end of the day. Sometimes times were tough, sometimes we'd celebrate success. He earned a percentage of the salary of the person he placed for printed circuit board companies. When he'd get a VP or top MGR there was a lot of excitement. We never really talked about money growing up but I thought his business was interesting.
That same year, 1980, while driving around looking at real estate in Maine which we loved to do for some reason, we stumbled upon a small A-Frame cottage tucked back in the woods. It had mildew on the frame and was small but was around $20,000. My Dad and Mom thought long and hard about this one because he had just started the business. They took a risk and bought the cottage so we could spend the entire summer in Maine instead of just 2 weeks. My Dad was so proud of this achievement and we couldn't have been happier as a family. He would continue the Wednesday and weekend ritual every summer for decades.
As a teenager my Dad was a great role model. He played catch with me in the backyard, he was an umpire when I played Little League, he was an assistant scout master when I was in Boy Scouts and even came with us on camp outs and Jamborees. When I started dating he would see when I was upset and slip notes under my bedroom door to make me feel better. When I went away to college he and my Mom would send me mail, real mail, every single week for 4 years and that's continued to this day (20 years later).
After graduating college, it was my turn to venture out on my own. Armed with a college degree, $1100 to my name and a giant green Navy dufflebag from my Dad I got on a train in Boston and said my good byes to my Mom and Dad. Dad cried, the kind of cry I only saw once before when we got the news that his Dad had died. Almost 20 years have gone by since that day. We've all gotten older and had the ups and downs of life. The decisions that I've made I'm sure are somehow related to my Dad. His character, his example, his commitment to family, his entrepreneurial spirit, his love of outdoors and peace and quiet and simplicity, they're part of me and I thank him for it, especially THIS Father's Day.
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