non baseball memories

Great story TPM... after I get my thoughts gathered I'll join the discussion... great idea for the bulletin board.

TPM, I like your memories. I got some too but like most people some are good and some are not so good. I think back as a child and remember mostly the bad things. I remember the nine kids in a four room tarpaper house with no plumbing, no closets, coon dogs and fleas, cornbread and white beans, a part time father ---- nothing to look forward to but those four rooms with a coal burning stove in one corner of the living room. We were cold in the winter and hot in the summer. The front porch was our gathering place on summer nights and the stove was the center of our life in the winters. We were VERY poor and in an odd way that made Christmas time extra special. That was the only time of year we would get a toy. Our tree was one we would go to the woods and cut. The tinsel and icicles were removed each year and used over and over. On birthdays we got no presents so the toys at Christmas were very special to us kids.
Baseball/softball was just a game that we played at school although a brother and I did play little league for 2 years. I remember working in the hay fields and hoeing corn for .25 cents an hour --- $2 a day! That was a lot of money to me. I graduated from HS in 1963 and my goal in life was to leave the poverty I had been raised in behind ----- I wanted to leave West Virginia for good as fast as I could. I hitchhiked to Phoenix and worked as a bricklayer’s laborer for a year. I joined the Navy and became an electronic technicians flying as an air crewman and operating Electronic Countermeasures equipment. I was stationed in San Diego CA, Whidbey Island, WA, Corpus Christi TX, Memphis, TN, Sangley Point Philippines and Tan Son Nhut, Viet Nam. I played baseball for the naval air station in Memphis. I married a girl from Memphis while in the Navy and after my four year obligation was over we settled in Memphis and I worked for her father who owned a truck line. He also owned a service station and I managed his service station for a year too. I knew I didn’t want to work on the truck line dock all my life or pump gas and change oil in trucks so I put on a suit and tie and convinced IBM I would make a good customer engineer (technician). I worked a total of 15 years for IBM in Tennessee, Washington State, Arkansas and Mississippi but was forced to quit IBM after a big gun fight at a party in Mississippi where one of my co-workers shot and wounded another man. Unemployed I rejoined my father-in-law’s trucking firm in Memphis and managed the truck maintenance dept. With my marriage on shaky grounds and a divorce imminent, I was forced to again change jobs and ended up driving a tractor trailer from Memphis to Los Angeles. I met and married my current wife, IBM realized I had done no wrong at the shoot out and gave me my job back. I stayed with IBM for a few years and decided to control my own destiny and started my own business competing with IBM in Memphis. I expanded my operation to three offices in three cities and within a few years I moved to Jackson TN. --- I sold my business this past year to a large corporation and today I do whatever -------Baseball??? Let me say that I always liked baseball but along the way I had my youngest son that loved baseball ---- out of necessity I learned to long toss, soft toss, hit fungos and become a fan of the game.
Fungo

Fungo,

I cannot possibly match that (not that anyone needs too)!

But you have led a tremendously interesting life and it is now more clear to me than ever why you provide such down-to-earth common sense advice on here time-and-time again.

I hope I get a chance to meet you in person someday...'big brother!'

TPM - I thoroughly enjoyed yours too!

After reading Fungo's post does anyone have trouble understanding why baseball is just a game?

I lived in southern California for twenty-two years after growing up in New England. I grew up with Christmas being a season. In California it was a day. I always hoped for blustery weather on Christmas. I didn't like it being hot and sunny on Christmas.

As a kid Christmas was about grandma's house. I stayed for the week and got spoiled. The best "all you can eat" involved Grandma's chocolate chip cookies. Grandmothers are cool. They don't worry about proper diet for a week. We once had ice cream sundaes for lunch. She chauffered me around all day on the 26th to spend every last dime I got for Christmas. I remember one year spending all day on the 26th finding all the special race track parts for the new Aurora race car set I received one Christmas (uncle is a NASCAR official). Grandma called it "fancy track." It was the crossovers and loops.

My grandmother would sleep at the top of the stairs on a cot Christmas Eve. There was not going to be any sneaking downstairs. Every year I was turned in by the darn creaking stairs in the old house. I never made it more than halfway down the stairs. But I tried every year. Stupid me, doing the same thing every year and expecting a different result.

One year I was sure I was getting a ten speed. I had to know. There was no waiting until morning. I bolted down the stairs, flipped on the light, got excited and then surrendered to a glaring grandmother standing with her hands on her hips in the living room entry way.

Spring vacation was like Christmas too. I could count on my grandmother buying box seats to every Red Sox game all week. The Sox are always home during Patriot's Day week. It's the week of the Boston Marathon.

Classic grandma line/story: My grandparents rented at a resort on the lake for decades. My kids became the fourth generation. After my grandfather passed she decided to return one more time so four generations could be there at the same time. My generation and my grandmother's generation are not alike. They were more alcohol related in their entertainment. We do more athletic things. At Sunday brunch on the beach my 93yo grandmother ambles up with her bottle to place with the others. She asked why there weren't any other bottles. In her mind it was time for Sunday brunch style drinks. We didn't drink during the day. We wanted to waterski as soon as brunch settled. My 93yo grandmother gave us a good stare of disgust and said, "Your generation doesn't know how to party."

I can still hear my grandmother saying hello as I enter the house like it was the best surprise in the world, no matter how often I was there.

quote:

Originally posted by justbaseball:

Fungo,
you have led a tremendously interesting life and it is now more clear to me than ever why you provide such down-to-earth common sense advice on here time-and-time again.

JB,

Fungo, the beginning of my story could very much resemble yours with the exception that my dad was around. We didn't have much but each other. I've told the story before here about chilli and how that is a family tradition at Chrismas since it is what my Mom and Dad could afford for a Christmas meal. At Thanksgiving, my Dad reminised about everything that had happened and he feels bad about what I had to do as a child. I try to convince him that everything I have and am is because of him and those times. My Wife has heard all of those stories but never from him and my child really got to know her Grandpa and Dad this Thanksgiving from those stories. I look at my life now and can't believe I've been so blessed. No one would have guess back then that I'd be where I am now. I have a great kid, loving Wife and get to be a part of the best profession in the world. I'm a teacher! I got after a young lady the other day in basketball practice and so when basketball practice was over, I apologized to her for yelling. She replied, "That's ok Coach Butler, I still love you." I was choked up for some time.

I'll finish with this. I felt chest pains the other day sitting in class and was scared enough to call for the school nurse. When she got down there, she joked about if it were the "big one" she'd have to let me go. I remarked to her that if so, I'd die the happiest man on this earth.

(PS, don't worry it was stress related and everything is fine. I take my job too serious sometimes.)

Fungo,

That is a "made for tv" movie if I ever heard one. Great story and what an interesting life. The only question now is who plays Fungo.

A couple names that come to mind

Robert De Niro
Dennis Hopper
or
Fungo as Fungo

TPM...Great Topic! I am so enjoying these stories...please keep them coming!

I’ve found these stories tremendously interesting to read and although mine will be boring I think, I’ll take a stab at it in hopes that others will also contribute.

I recently researched my family tree. Very fun and I would suggest anyone do the same if they have the time.

I learned that my father’s family comes from a long line of farmers in Virginia (I knew the Virginia part already). My grandmother used to say we were related to Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis, but I haven’t found the proof of that (yet). One grandfather was an apple orchard farmer and later a mailman, the other a weaver. My parents were both the first generation in their families to attend college. My mother’s family immigrated from Germany and I haven’t been able to get too far back on that side. But on my father’s side, it was kind of interesting that these families resided in the back country for hundreds of years with no real education (my great-grandfather couldn’t sign his draft card…just made an “X” mark…I’ve seen a copy of it). It appears they were cash poor and land rich. It also appears they were eventually driven out of the farmland and into the towns/cities by the Great Depression…they needed to find work.

Both my parents attended college…my father to Va. Tech (although he was told by a HS teacher that he'd never amount to anything and that he was wasting his time) and eventually to Stanford for his PhD in engineering. My mother attended a small Catholic college in Maryland that is now closed. They got married during my father's senior year in college and had me (their 1st child) while at Stanford. I have some great photos they took from that era. They were dirt poor at that time. Yep, we had the "Charlie Brown" Christmas tree.

After grad. school at Stanford, they returned to Blacksburg where my father taught engineering at Va. Tech. He once won the most prestigious teaching award at the university. These were the best years of my childhood…small town, snowy winters, hot but comfortable summers in the mountains. Walked to school nearly every day. Summers were spent camping…I used to think everyone’s father had the summer off to do fun things.

We eventually moved to Cincinnati (age 10 for me) where my father taught at the Univ. of Cincinnati. Neil Armstrong came onboard there shortly after and became friends with my dad. He used to come to our house for dinner or cookouts and he was a really nice guy…his autobiography briefly mentions my father. My mother eventually taught there as well. She used to tutor football and basketball players there who were struggling and once had a nice article written about her and a basketball player in the Chicago Tribune.

Cincinnati is where I fell in love with baseball with the Big Red Machine of the 70s (I was in HS and then college). During college I used the co-op program to work 1/2 year and attend school the other half, putting me on the 5-year plan. I had my father for classes three separate times in college...he was the best teacher I ever had but I was sure scared the first time! I co-oped in California where I met my beautiful wife who was doing the same from Univ. of New Mexico. We got married 6 days after I graduated from college and together moved back to California where we worked and attended graduate school.

We had our first son 11 months later. I never, ever saw my father so happy as when he got to hold his first grandson (our 1st son). He was a great dad, but I saw a side of him then that I had never seen before. Unfortunately, my father died suddenly about a year and a half later and never saw another grandchild born. My mother lived another 20+ years and got to see all of her grandchildren born and one (ours) graduate from college…but she too passed earlier this year (today would have been her birthday). Very devastating for all of us. Both of my parents have endowed scholarships named after them at the college they last taught (Univ. of Cincinnati and Thomas More College in KY). My own proudest moment professionally was when I got to deliver the annual 'memorial technical seminar' at UC that is given each year in my father's honor. My mother, wife and kids were all there and I felt all goose-pimply doing it.

We had 5 other kids (4 boys and 2 girls total) and they are the center of our life. One is out of college now (and living and working on his own! YEAH!), #2 (baseball player) is almost out, #3 just started this Fall. #4 is a freshman in HS. Daughters are in Jr. HS and Elementary school.

To my knowledge, we have never been poor, but never wealthy either. My parents had enough money to do fun things (ballgames, camping, etc…), but we never had anything poured down on us. My wife and I started with about $500 to our name (our parents would’ve helped, but we wanted to go it on our own). We got a credit card and used it to buy groceries until we got our first paycheck. But shortly after that we were in decent shape financially and have been ever since. Certainly not wealthy, but able to do fun things and pay for college for our kids. We’re able to make roadtrips with our son’s college team when we really want too, but we’ve had to give up other family vacations to do so.

I’ve worked at the same place (NASA) for 27+ years and hope to retire in 7 or 8 years. I’d like to sell our house then and move either to the mountains or back to the Midwest. Photography is probably my most passionate hobby. I love taking photos of my kids playing sports or just goofing off.

I really like the way I was raised and have tried to pass that parenting on to my own kids. I’ve blown it a few times and so have they, but overall things are pretty good and it would be hard to ask for much more.

Lastly, I should say that my wife is probably the only woman who should have or could have ever married me. She loves the things I do and puts up with my grumpy moods...but tells me when I'm full of c.r.a.p when I deserve to be told. To me, she’s a saint! Our kids are tremendously lucky to have her as their mother. I am very lucky to have her as my wife as well.

justbaseball, beautifully put!

Amazingly, my story is not too different from many of yours, with only a few exceptions. I was born in Columbia, Mississippi in the late 40's. My parents were married. I was the second child in a family of 4 children. We owned our own home, right across the street from my Mother's mother,who was the matriarch of the family. My father's Mother was part Indian, my fathers father was part White. Being raised in the 50's and 60's in Mississippi, I wish I could tell you that I was not subjected to racism. But it would be a lie. I never went to school with White children. And, yes, as I have mentioned before I was called the N-word while growing up. Yet, I am not bitter. I have overcome all of that.

In order for my father to find a decent job during the 30's in Mississippi, he had to go to the Northeast. He ended up in Farrell, PA working for Sharon Steel Mill for about 40 years. The strange part about it was that my Mom and Dad chose to leave my Mom and the childen in Columbia during the winter and then Dad would come down and load us up in the family car (Dad always had nice cars)and take us to Farrell for the Summer. In August, he'd load us up again and bring us back to Columbia for school. While we knew that Dad was taking good care of us financially, my brother and I suffered in other areas. Our Dad was a man of many skills. He was a master carpenter. He could do plumbing. He could fix cars. My brother and I know very little about those skills. Even today, if there is something more complex than tightening something around the house, I have to hire someone to do it.

One memory that sticks out about my childhood is the death of our Mother. We had gone to school that morning, I was around 14, and Mom wasn't up yet. That was a little strange. But in my rush to be on time for school, I didn't think much of it. Around 9:00 that morning, someone came to get me out of class to tell me that Mom was dead. Of course, I didn't believe them because, after all, it was April 1st, April Fool's Day. Well, it was April Fool's Day AND Mom had died in her sleep. That was an awful day for me.

Dad rushed home from Farrell. We buried Mom and the plan was for my two sisters to move in with our Grandmother across the street and my brother and I would stay in our house under the supervision of our grandmother. Then in May Dad would come and pick us up and we would live with him until we all graduated from school. Evidently, someone forgot to check with my Grandmother. When August came, my Grandmother demanded that we be returned to Columbia. My Father gave in and we were returned to Columbia where we stayed until we graduated from high School. My wife and I married right out of high school. We went on to graduate from Jackson State University. Moved to the Atlanta Metro area and have made a pretty decent living while raising and educating three kids, two girls and a boy. All three children are college graduates. Life has been good. My wife and I celebrated our 42nd Wedding Anniversary on Thanksgiving Day.

Wow, good stuff. I only got into a nice short memory.

I come from an engineering family. My father was also an engineer. His father was the same (as is my brother). Dad grew up in Pittsfield Mass, began school at Yale then to Ohio State, but I recently found out he finished school at Tri State College in Angola, as he had joined the the Air Force and needed to finish his degree. There he met my mom. She is from outside of Detroit and grew up on a farm. My grandfather (who I never knew) killed himself during the depression (after WW1)so she was unable to go to college. She worked at USO functions as a hostess and that is where they met. They would dance until morning together and got married thinking my dad would go overseas.

They always told us those were some of the greatest times in their marriage. After my dad finished school and then the US into WW2 he was sent to Brownsville Texas to work on a secret engineering project. My mom always complained that someone was following her when she left the base. Later they found out he was on the team that built the B52 that dropped the bomb on Hiroshima. That memory was one he lived everyday all of his life. After that he became employed by Westinghouse in New Jersey and then left to begin his own distributorship in heating and air conditioning.

My dad's business boomed in the early sixties when people began migrating to the suburbs outside of Newark,NJ. We lived a comfortable life, not spoiled. My parents traveled a lot for business but when they came back they took us everywhere and it always had to be educational, Boston, Washington, Gettysburg, Philadelphia. I now know why I had a facination for US history and it was my best subject. One year my dad came home to announce he bought a boat, and although my mom just rolled her eyes, those years were the best memories I have. We traveled everywhere on boats from Maine to the Bahamas. My favorite place was Nantucket. We spent winter vacations in fort lauderdale on the boat and lived down on the jersey shore in summers on the boat. Next to our boat was a huge houseboat and the men who came there on the weekends told us they were astronaunts in training and we laughed. They took us fishing and taught us to catch crabs on the docks. My dad would talk about planes and the air force with them. Later we realized one of them was John Glenn. JBB's story of Neil Armstrong brought back that memory.

My dad retired very early and they came to Florida. We followed in 1976 after selling our little home with the garage. When my dad reached mid 60's he began to act very strange, by 72 he had a full blown case of Alzhiemer's. It was probably the most difficult time in my life because in the beginning no one had a clue of what was going on. A very intelligent charming man changed before our eyes. He passed on 12 years ago, my mom has a companion she has been with for 10 years and at 82, she still dances! Actually, she has a busier social life than I do!

My greatest gift I gave to my folks were my kids, first my daughter then 9 years later DK. My son is the spitting image of my dad and has the same problems my dad had, monkey arms, no jacket or long sleeve shirt comes to his wrists, he just gives up and pulls up the sleeves. My dad first became ill when Dave was young, so the baseball games he attended didn't mean much at that point. I would take him out to lunch a few times a week to give my mom a break and he would tell everyone he met that his SON was a baseball player for the yankees (his team). He kept DK's Khorey league card of his first season (8) in his pocket and showed everyone with pride as if he was a MLB star. It was very touching. My daughter was the love of his life though, they spent hours together before he became ill.

I hope that he is watching, he would be so proud of both of them!

TPM - that was a very nice story. Every story in this thread has been unbelievable in its emotional impact. The site is addictive and this thread explains why.

quote:

Originally posted by Tiger Paw Mom:
My greatest gift I gave to my folks were my kids...

I know that feeling exactly TPM and its a wonderful feeling!

But I have to admit I'm not quite ready to be on the receiving end of it just yet.

quote:

Originally posted by justbaseball:

quote:

Originally posted by Tiger Paw Mom:
My greatest gift I gave to my folks were my kids...

But I have to admit I'm not quite ready to be on the receiving end of it just yet.

I am, daughter just turned 31! Her clock is ticking and so is ours!

However, we are living vicariously through our granddog.

Wow, what stories!!

When my parents were growing up they were very poor.
They came from very hard working families where everyone had to pitch in to put food on the table. My dad had to quit school in 6th grade to go to work. He is the oldest of 11 siblings. His dad, my G'pa was a very interesting man. He was a Shawnee Indian. He was a boxer and for a while made a living traveling with carnivals as the strong man... Inviting anyone and everyone at the carnival to take him on in the ring...you beat him, you win money. He never lost. Someone in Al Capones gang saw him and offered him a job. He moved to Chicago to work for Mr. Capone, and needless to say, he found trouble and spent some time in the pen. When he got out, my grandma gave him an ultimatum, come home now, or never come home. He went home and worked for the railroad until retirement.
Although my dad had a limited education, he has become a very accomplished businesss man. He worked all the time, and I didn't know my dad very well as a youth, we are now very close.
My two older brothers and sister did not go to college, in fact, no one in my entire family tree had ever been to college. I wanted to go to college, my dad didn't want any part if it "college is for rich spoiled kids" he would say. My mother took up my cause and they fought and fought and fought. What ya know, the next year I was in college, the first in my whole family. When I graduated my Dad was so proud, he just gushed with pride. It made me feel good. Now, my younger brother didn't have a choice...According to my dad, HE WAS GOING TO COLLEGE! My dad now has 3 grandchildren that have graduated college, 2 in college now and several more to come. Not to be outdone; my mom, after not working for 30 yrs, at the age of 50 she enrolled in college to get an Assoc. degree. She ended up getting her masters. She has now been a psycholist for 15 years. Kind of cool!
I met my wife in college, we will celebrate our 20th this year. She holds the fort down for 3 boys and a husband that still acts like he is 15. She is the nucleous of my family, and the boys and I love her the most!

I thought about this a bit but what the heck---we are all baring our souls and at my age does it really matter?

As a youth we had spit to work with but with my Dad in the Army, he was a PE and College Professor who taught the young'ns how to build bridges--- because of his being staioned in Ohio in the 40's I got to see an Ohio State football game before I was 5 years old--great vivid memory

By the time I was LL age he was in the Construction Business with his brother and money was better--NO-we were never poverty stricken. We had no LL in our town when I was 11 so he formed a team and we played teams from the area---we had no uniforms, no name, minimal equipment but now a load of memories


he aslso took me to Giants/Dodgers games every year--one at the Polo Grounds and the other at Ebbets Field

The following year they brought LL to our town which already had a semi pro team and a stadium with lights--- now we had LL and I had ex pro players as coaches--one of whom had played for the Dodgers in their minor league system and played with Chuck Connors and Jackie Robinson at Montreal.


But I had a major Problem which I to this day thank my parents, God Rest their souls as I lost them within 6 months in 2006. I ended up having meningitis 7 times between the ages of 11 and 21, and surviving. I recall the trips thru red lights as we sped to the emergency rooms of various hospitals. BUT I STILL PLAYED BASEBALL !!!


At 21 we found a MD who knew a bit about what was going on with me medically--- perhaps Mom and Dad helped me grow up quickly because in 1963 brain surgery was mostly experimental---this Doc we found said he could cure me and after sitting with my parents the decision was mine to make as I was 21 and legal age---I guess this is when I truly became a man---I said "lets go"--- here we are in 2007 and I am still here and loving the game---they are both gone---as most of you know I lost both of them within 6 months in 2006

But the memories are to me very differnet than most-- my dad and I were business partners for some 30 years-- I truly think what I went thru as a child built a special bond--he allowed me to venture into the music business while working with him, even giving me a two year sabbatical to make it work.

My parents gave me life, gave me love and gave me the freedom to be myself and I had the gift from God to be with them as they passed at home. We spent the final days talking of our lives, me and them and then being able to hold them as they passed.

Interestingly one of the things that brought my Dad from his alzheinmers doldrums was talking baseball with me

And I would be remiss not to mention my wife who is assisting me thru my disability years , yes the menigitis sieges and surgery are now taking hold--I have seizures from time to time due to the damage from the youthful episodes

SPECIAL MEMORIES are important but don't get me wrong--I am not looking for sympathy---I have lived a great life, done things others have not, and am still here while I am able to be involved with my first love the game of baseball


THANK YOU GOD FOR EVERTHING and the bottom line my parents were the greatest

amen

Like Fungo, I grew up in Appalacia (NW Pa) but my parents were not as poor but of lower middle class. One thing I have learned in life is that you can always find someone who is worse off than you were and thus there is usually something to be thankful for. My father grew up on a farm and had seven brothers and sisters. My mother had eight brothers and sisters and her family had less than what Fungo described. I have many cousins on both sides that have enriched my life.

My great grandparents emigrated from Russia just before the Bolshevik revolution. My great grandmother was Orthodox Catholic and her father was a highly educated bishop in the Orthodox church. I believe my great grandfather was Jewish and being of mixed faith, they found life untennable in Russia. They came through Ellis Island and were determined to make a new life here in America. They lived in NYC for a time before moving to Youngstown Ohio where my great grandfather found work in the steel mills. Tragically, he caught pneumonia in his early 20's and died leaving his widow with four infant children - one of them being my grandfather. My great grandmother could speak five languages and eventually remarried to a widower who also had four children. In those days, the ethnic community looked out for one another. Thus, if someone became a widow or an orphan, someone in the community would see to it that the family was cared for.

Shortly thereafter, four other children lost both their parents within 6 months of each other and this ethnic couple who already had eight children of their own took them in thus giving them a family of 12. Talk about sacrifice for the good of the community. My grandmother was from one of these four orphaned children brought into the family. Bascially, my grandparents grew up together as children because of rather tragic circumstances and eventually married. One interesting thing was that although all the kids could speak Russian and it was understood, it was forbidden to be spoken in the home. They felt they were in America and only English was now acceptible.

All my grandparents like many of yours have been dead for many years now. My grandmother was the most influential person in my life and the reason is simple - she believed in me.

My Dad is the hardest working guy I have ever known and my Mom is the most organized. She taught me how to solve any problem by creating lists for me as a kid. Everyday before she went to work, she would leave me a list of chores/tasks to be done before she got home. My Dad was often grumpy because he worked in a foundry but I learned if the lawn was mowed or the driveway was shoveled before he got home that would put him in a good mood.

My main goals in high school were like many young men today and that was to meet the young girls. School was a lower priority and that was a mistake because I had the ability to do well in school.

I went to a techinical school for electronics after high school for two years. Electronics it was felt would support my budding career as a rock musician. Funny thing happened and I got a job working with MRI before anyone knew what MRI was. I found I liked the complexities offered in the electronics field. After a year or two, I started back to night school and spent the next 10 years earning an Electrical Engineering degree at night while raising three young children and working full time. In 1994 at the age of 34, I went to Law School. I graduated law school at age of 38 and have been a patent attorney ever since. We represent the most famous companies in the world and it is indeed high reward yet with equally high stress.

I have learned that it is never too late to get an education and that you can make up for mistakes in your youth. I have tried to pass on to my kids however it is better not to make the mistakes in the first place.

My dad grew up in West Dallas, his grandmother and mother were bootleggers so to say the least his upbringing could of been alot better. His mother was married so many times in Texas she had to start going to Oklahoma to get hitched. As I have gone through the records I found 13 marriages. Her shortest marriage was 1 day, she shot that husband on their wedding night. When my grandmother brought men to the house my dad was sent outside to sleep between two chairs on the front porch. He worked most of his young life to bail my grandmother and great grandmother out of jail. To say the least he spent very little time with his dad when he was growing up. Infact, he had very little parental contact, but alot of bad influences. When he was 7 his mom took him to New Mexico and left him in a hotel room and she drove back to Dallas.

My mom on the other hand was raised in a very strict Baptist family. Her dad sold everything they had here and loaded up the car and drove to California. He felt the Lord lead him to there to build a church. My mom spent most of her teen years in California.

My parents were married in '62 and my sister was born a short 11 months later and I was born 8 years after that, infact yesterday was my birthday. My dad always said his children would have a better life than he did. From what I have learned over the years it would not have taken much for that to happen. I have often wondered how a person that grew up in a household with so much aggression, poor morals and adversity could be a wonderful man. But he was.

I was born in Fort Worth and moved to Parker County the summer of my 3rd grade year. I never wanted for anything when I was younger, we weren't rich by no means but we were comfortable. My dad and I were very close. We spent alot of time fishing, boating, rebuilding engines and transmissions. He taught me to tune-up my car, change my oil, change my brakes and to set my timing by ear. I didn't even know what a timing light was until I was 20 years old. It seemed that no matter what my interests were he jumped in with me 110%. He was my best friend.

One of the fondest memories I have with him was when Lake Worth froze over and we walked across the lake on the Jacksboro Hwy side. It was Christmas.

I lost my dad to a car accident when I was 15 years old. That was one of the darkest times of my life. It took me a long, long time to let go of him; to realize that he was in a better place.

As alot of you know my mom lives with us and has been battling breast cancer. Now we are fighting congestive heart failure/enlarged heart/cardiomyopathy due to the chemo that she took. I am not sure how long she has left with us, it all depends on her medications and the decisions that she makes from here on out. But I know that we have this Christmas for sure.

I grew up in a loving home and I will always cherish the memories my parents gave me growing up. When my son grows up and looks back on his life, I can only hope that I was half the parent to him that my parents were to me. I hope that he has fond memories of his childhood.

TPM,

Thanks for starting this topic. I am reading every word of the posts by our websters and - IMO - every story is so enjoyable and interesting.

My dad was from a family of 11 - with about half born in Italy - and the rest born in the USA. The entire family lived in the Bronx - as did my Mom's famliy - who lived directly across the street.

My mom's brother and my dad were best friends growing up. All of them didnt have much of anything except themselves. Just dirt poor.

Dad left high school after his junior year and signed with the Detroit Tigers. My uncle - finished high school and signed with the Pittsburgh Pirates. 2 years later - they were both in the military - Dad in the Army and Uncle in the Navy.

After their service - Dad went back to baseball for a few years - and Uncle didnt - he got a job with IBM as a draftman - and worked for them for the next 35 years.

Dad left baseball 2 years after that. Got married and started a family. Still in the same neighborhood in the Bronx. Shortly after they had me - dad got spinal meningitis - and we had to live with my grandparents for about a year. They even quarantined the apartment we lived in. Fortunately - he survived that.

In the early 1960's - we moved out of the Bronx to Rockland County. It was a big deal moving away from the family - the family treated it as if we were moving to another planet - when really we were just moving about 30 miles away to have a better life.

Dad worked 2 hard jobs for almost 30 years - as did my mom. So I didnt get to see them as much as I would have liked. But they always found the time to make family life enjoyable. They were both very proud when I got a college degree - first kid in the entire family (and there were alot of us) to do so. My first job was with IBM - and my mom and uncle just loved that - as it was his first job also. I got a graduate business degree from NYU - and once again they were beaming.

The centerpiece of all of our lives was baseball - and still is. That is where and how we spent most of our free time - including my mom.

When my eldest got drafted this past year - my mom and dad didnt stop talking for about 2 months. They went to see him several times this past summer when he played in Brooklyn and Staten Island - and every time - just beaming.

As if God wanted to make something special happen for them - the highlight was the last game of the league championship in Brooklyn. They had front row seats over my son's team dugout - and he hit a game clinching home run - and as he rounded third base - he was looking directly at them - gave them a thumbs up. My parents were beside themselves for a month. They would call every couple days and retell the story - and start crying.

They always stuck by us - through the good and the bad - and instilled in us the "never say die" attitude. We in turn have done the same for our kids. We have always tried to make them proud by our actions - on the field and off the field.

I am glad they are still with us - and feel blessed that God gave us the good fortune of being together for so long.

I, too, am enjoying every post. I was especially moved by yours, Gunnersmom!

These stories are wonderful - better than any novel and better than a movie. The stories are like snowflakes in that each one is compellingly different. Very emotional as well. Please don't be bashful, everyone has a story to tell.

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Tears…laughs…heartstrings…This is great!

OK, CD you’ve made me feel beholding…

Let’s see now…what memories can I add … Preachers, teachers, farmers and Missionaries?…Riyadh, Miami, and Maui?...Alzheimer’s, alcoholism and life-flights?...The Armenian Genocide and the Boxer Rebellion?... Chicago, Santa Fe, San Diego…6 1/2 current Step siblings, 3 former step mom’s, 4 former step siblings?...The tanker captain and the U-boat ace?...Vegas, Malibu, Kauai?...Beauty, intelligence, and the value of a great gene pool?...John Phillip Sousa, Johan Adams and Tubas?...Clint Eastwood, John Denver and Jerry Yang (Yahoo)?...Miscarriages, cancer and heart disease?…Navy seals, decorated CHP’s and Korean war heroes?...Sinking ships, sandstorms, and floods?...King Abdullah, Ambassador Cutler and Chop-Chop square?…Teaching, coaching and giving?...Disc drives, billionaires and the “baseball scratch”?...Tropical South Pacific Islands and Frozen Mountaintops?...Magic, epiphany, paradise, and tons of love?…

Nah…Good story, but you’d never believe it…

What you WOULD believe is that (without going into specific memories)…

… like It’s… I can say that pure and simple that beyond Family (sometimes very ragged), love, community, and an unshakable but often challenged belief in the goodness of humanity…Sports have always been our glue. As far back as I can remember me and mine have always walked through the world as athletes. It is how we have defined ourselves and our world. Sports have been our expression, our teacher, our occupation, our art, and our legacy. It is how we relate to each other it is how we talk, it is how we bond, it is how we come of age, it is how we share, and it is what we share. In time of great stress and struggle, through disaster and death sports have been our comfort and our escape.

A great deal like the rest of you I would suspect…

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quote:

Originally posted by ClevelandDad:
These stories are wonderful - better than any novel and better than a movie. The stories are like snowflakes in that each one is compellingly different. Very emotional as well. Please don't be bashful, everyone has a story to tell.

I agree and enjoying many similarities. Both sets of my grandparents came through Ellis Island, my father's family also before the Revolution in Russia. The story goes they were wealthy educated people, forced out for religious persecution. My grandfather's family was so rich, they hid jewels in furniture to have resources when they came to America. They all agreed to meet in NY, but somehow my grandfather's family got on the wrong boat and ended in South America. Immediately after they came here, my educated grandfather, without those jewels, found work and immediately went to school. My mother's family were from Poland, but most of her family did not make it to America and most were lost in the holocaust and the rest migrated to Israel after the war. These were stories passed down to us, but from researching the logs from Ellis Island, we found this to be true.

My husband's father led an interesting life. He came from Russia as a baby without his parents. He was raised by his older sisters and brother, in the ghetto in NY and they were very very poor. To make money for the family, his brother became a boxer, like teh boxers you see in the movie Cinderella Man, and very much mixed up with the dark side of the streets of Brooklyn,NY. But they took care of him and saved for his education. My father in law was all of 5'4" and persecuted, he became a sprint runner and won many medals and money from marathons which put him through art school. He was most likely one of the best artists of his time, but out of need he went to work for a dress manufacturer and later became one of the most famous dress designers of the 50's through the 70's. Recently I saw a copy of one of his prints on a dress in Macy's a return to the 70's look. I know it was his because I have the original picture of the dress and fabric.

Part of his job in his very early years was visitng the fabric mills of New England to watch the fabrics roll out which was a very tedious process. During that time he took it upon himself to find bits and pieces of fabric and took them home, gathering a huge collection. This became his hobby and passion and in his twilight years he lectured on early calico and european fabrics. We have fabric dating back to the civil war and from the late 1800-1900's from europe. That was his passion, plus a fascination for Egyptian art, which is a whole other story unto itself.
My husband as a kid had no interest in any of this. But many years after he passed on, we realized that he had aquired the largest private collection of antique fabric in the world. For anyone that has a passion for fabric, this is a HUGE business. My husband copywrited his father's lecture and traveled all over the US for years. I went on many of those trips, it was free travel for us. He has been everywhere from California to Boston and he worked hard at having his dad's own fabric collection named and printed and just recently collaborated on a book about his father and his collection. On our drive to Omaha, we found our way to Paducah, KY where his father's collection had been on exhibition at the museum and sells the book. Paducah is a great trip, filled with lots of history and really nice people. According to PG, there is a gas station there that has great fried baloney sandwiches.

My father in law was very rarely home when son was growing up and he was the only child from that marriage with a very ill mother most of his life. He doesn't have lots of the memories that we all have growing up with brothers and sisters. He played baseball up until HS and very rarely had a parent there to watch. Every spring he would cut school on a regular basis to catch a train or bus to NY to watch Yankee day games, always telling his folks he had a great day at school. There were times he barely got through the HS curriculum and no one seemed to care if he really went to school or not.
When my daughter was born, by 3 he was carting her to every spring training weekend game and then to minor league games. Then our son was born and when he was 3 it began all over again. My son learned to play the game by watching Yankee spring training games and minor league games (I think the team was called the Pompano Miracle before moving to Miami at the time and Mike Lansing was a crowd pleaser) here in Fort Lauderdale. When DK was 10 at a Braves/Expos ST game in West Palm, during a freak at bat by Henry Rodriquez husband was hit in the eye and knocked out cold. He basically suffered the same injuries as JBB's Erik, but has lost partial sight in one eye and it took 6 months for recovery.

During that incident, my son was befriended by Moises Alou who played for the Expos at the time. That friendship had a lot to do with my then 10 year old developing a deeper passion for wanting to become a pro player. His agency is the same as Alou's, it is very ironic how our paths in our lives cross over numerous times without realizing it until later on. I often wonder if that lack of parental bonding (you know how dads and sons bond spending time at games) made my husband obsessed with dragging both of his kids to ball games when still in diapers.

We now have three posters with grandparents who escaped Russia during the revolution. The bizarre thing is my grandparents didn't know each other in Russia, both escaped to London, then New York and then Brunswick, Maine where they met. They became the classic immigrant story where they started with the general store, worked hard and ended up owning half of Main Street. They bought it ten cents on the dollar during the Depression. I remember giving my grandmother (this is the other one) a ride once and getting chewed out badly for leaving pennies on the floor of my car. Pennies turn into dollars!

This is the grandmother who reminds me of my two favorite Jewish jokes: 1) What's the difference between a Jewish mother/grandmother and a vulture? The vulture lets you die before it eats your heart out. 2) What's the Jewish stance on abortion? It's a living fetus until it finishes grad school.

The other grandmother spoiled me. This one hounded me to success. She told me money doesn't buy happiness or real friends, but it's empowering. Both were positive influences. My grandfather would walk me down Main Street showing me off to all his business tenants when I was little. Then he would take me into JJ Newberry's (the first mall hadn't been built yet) to buy some toys. When we got home my grandmother would freak it he bought me toys instead of books.

Talk about disparity in parent's families! My mother is first generation American. My father is sixth generation. He was the preppy BMOC, 6th generation college DEKE, football player. My mother and her siblings were the first to attend college. On my father's side everyone (men) went since the late 18th century.

My mother being a WASP wannabe, (I say it affectionately/she admits to it/second husband also a preppy WASP) went right after my dad. She said when anyone walked into a room it was obvious who was in charge. She said he was very Clintonesque in his charm (also his faults too, but we won't go there).

There aren't any out of nowhere stories here growing up. There were homes on the lake in Maine and the Cape in Mass. There was a big brick house. But never assume when you see big houses and nice cars it's all smiles behind the doors. I was exposed to a lot of positives due to the options provided, but there were plenty of negatives I could have done without. Without getting into it, I made it a long term positive experience by using the negatives as a model "how not to" for parenting and personal relationships.

Going back to the penny thing, does anyone remember when finding a penny meant you could run to the corner store and buy two mint julips? Summertime was for playing baseball and having water fights when we got hot, not going inside in the AC to play Playstation due to breaking a sweat. AC is the worst thing that ever happened to kids.

TG,
My grandfather also invested in real estate and owned the apartment building he lived in and the entire block, including an ice cream and candy store. Those were great memories, but like many father's did back then, his estate was left to my father and that caused a huge riff betwen him and one sister the result was not speaking to each other for many years. That split made my aunt a witch and my cousins were told not so speak to us, even attending the same school. Money, I have learned no matter how you come by it, does not bring happiness.

AC, IMO, was the best invention, it provided a good life for my folks and his family and others who were benficiaries of giving nature. He retired a millionaire, but his Alzheimer's made him do some crazy things and by the time he passed on my mother was left with practically nothing.

We never spent anytime inside and we lived with AC all of our lives.

Playstation is the worst thing that ever happened to kids.

Not too found of the jewish mother/grandmother jokes.

My father grew up almost as an only child in Beaumont, Texas. His brother was 12 years older, and he definitely was doted on as the baby of the family. My grandmother hired a large-framed, 6-foot-tall black woman named Bessie to help with housekeeping and cooking, and she just loved my dad. When my dad was 3 or 4 years old, he crawled up on the dining room table to get a piece of fruit and accidentally broke a new crystal bowl that my grandmother had just purchased. This was in the height of the Great Depression, when money was scarce, and my grandmother was livid that her precious bowl had been broken. She spanked my father and stormed out of the room. A few minutes later, she was still steaming, and she returned and spanked my dad some more. A few minutes later, she was getting ready to spank my dad a third time when Bessie intervened and pulled my dad up into her arms. With a loud and deep bellow, she cried out, “Don’t you whoop my baby no mo.” My grandmother angrily asked, “Whose baby??” Bessie retorted, “My baby!” With that, Bessie tore down the street with my dad and didn’t return until nightfall. Bessie was a beloved part of the family and my grandmother delighted in telling that story over and over again.

When I was about 15, my family was visiting New Orleans and my dad set out to visit Bessie, who had retired in the Crescent City. Bessie's brother informed him that she had died the previous week.

Just across the street from my father’s home in Beaumont were hundreds of acres of woods, and my dad and his buddies loved to go camping in those woods for days at a time. They started camping when they were 6 or 7 years old, and none of the parents ever worried about them. They definitely had a charmed childhood.

As an adult, my dad thoroughly enjoys hunting. Growing up, I was used to him being gone all the time at his lease; thus, I have no problem with the time away from home that my husband and son spend hunting. The recruiting coordinator of my son’s future college is also an avid hunter and says he looks forward to my son’s arrival at the school so he’ll have someone who speaks his “language.”

My mother grew up as part of the Maverick family in Texas. The patriarch at that time was her great-grandfather, Albert Maverick, son of Samuel Augustus Maverick, who was a signer of the Texas Declaration of Independence. (Supposedly, Samuel Maverick was at one time the largest landowner west of the Mississippi. I'd like to know where all the land and money went! ) Albert and his wife Jane had about a dozen children and my mother was a part of the enormous fourth generation, with dozens and dozens of cousins. There was almost no need for friends, as the cousins got together regularly to play and visit. Jane occasionally got tired of all the company and when she was ready for people to leave, she would graciously offer to show them some of her etchings. That usually did the trick.

My mother was – and remains to this day – a “maverick.” She is 76 and has played bass fiddle in the Corpus Christi Symphony since age 14. That’s 62 years! She loves to tell dirty jokes and regularly rolls down the window of her car to ask policemen if they’ve caught anyone that day. I remember her doing this when I was a child and I was absolutely mortified! When my sister and I were growing up, she would regularly take us to the Port of Corpus Christi and ask sailors from foreign countries if we could come aboard their ships. Without fail, they would give us tours, offer us candy or treats from their country, and try to teach us some words from their language. I credit my mother for my love of learning, curiosity, and sense of adventure.

This is quickly becoming one of my favorite all-time threads here. Thanks everyone for opening yourselves up and sharing with the rest of us. I have genuinely enjoyed every single story here.

quote:

Originally posted by Tiger Paw Mom:
Not too found of the jewish mother/grandmother jokes.

My mother laughs at them. Her response is "Never forget it!" She has the grill around her license plate saying, "My other car is a broom."

As for my grandparents fortunes, after my grandfather died my grandmother started selling out over a period of time until all the buildings were sold. Everything was placed equally in a trust for her three kids with each kid's share to filter to the grandkids (my generation). All three kids are very close. Or should I say were. One passed.

Hey Fungo. Is it your fault we ended up drinking sparkling cider at office Christmas parties?

Great stories folks...
Mine is Vanilla compared to most. I was one of six kids in our family. Dad was a carpenter and mom stayed home and managed the six of us.

Dad's job didn't seem like any big deal to me... until I worked with him the summer of my freshman year in college. Up early and on some roof that was well over 100 degrees, a short lunch break and then work long and hard... a crawl space one moment and hauling shingles up on another roof top the next. That experience helped me to buckle down and work hard in school, get my education and enter a profession.

Mom's job didn't seem like any big deal to me... until I had kids of my own. She cranked out loads of laundry and meals were on time. She made sure homework was done on time and drilled us for our spelling or vocab tests. She read the morning paper to us at breakfast and she sent us to school knowing that we were loved and what we did that day mattered.
So as you can see, I was very lucky... I didn't always know it... but I do now.

My father was the 8th of 9 boys with 4 sisters. His dad my grandfather was a sharecropper. For those of you not from the south what that means is they were allowed to live on a farmers land in a shack basically. They worked the land for the farmer for exchange they got a place to live and food. My grandfather sent the boys out to work the land when they reached the fourth grade. So my dad only got to go to school up to the third grade.

When he was 18 he walked out of the fields barefoot and down to the recruiters office in Henderson NC and joined the Army. He told me a few years before he died "The first toothbrush I never had to share the Army gave me. My first pair of shoes I ever owned all to myself were my jumpboots the Army gave me. The training was nothing to me. It was a piece of cake compared to working on the farms." My dad sent his paycheck home to his mom. He did not come back home until he had served two terms in Korea.

I am the third oldest of four boys. My dad met my mom while he was sharecropping her dads farm in Wilton NC. He begged her to marry him and when he got back from Korea they dated for a short while and were married. All four of us were born in a different state. My oldest brother in Jackson Miss , the next at Fort Jackson SC , I was born in Seattle Wash and my baby brother in Harrisonburg PA. We traveled all over the world with my dad. We lived in Naples Italy and Baumhaulder Germany and many places in the states.

When I was 8 I remember my dad telling us all that he had to go away for awhile. He said he would be back in a little over a year. He had to go train some guys in a place called Vietnam. I cried so hard because it was the first time he really had to go away for a long time. I remember that Christmas. We didnt get very much. Less than usual. But I didnt care. My Christmas present would be seeing my dad when he got home. I remember every night my mom would huddle us all together and we woud pray for our dad to come back home safe. We were living in Fayetteville at Ft Bragg at the time. We lived on Durant Street just off the base. Most of the dads on the street were in Vietnam as well. I remember hanging out with all the guys on the street and playing ball. We would talk about when our dads were coming home. Some boys dads never did come back. One night I heard a knock at the door. We all ran to the door and there was our dad. He had his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. All four of us grabbed him and we started to cry. Ive never cried so hard in my life. My mom just stood back and watched I remember that. It was the first time I ever saw my daddy cry. I only saw him cry one more time in his life.

My dad stayed in the Army until I was around 13. That is when we moved to Durham NC. My dad told me that I could play ball if I wanted to. He said he never got to play "Games" growing up and as long as I played as hard as I could and did my very best I could play games as long as I wanted to. I played baseball and football. My dad never missed a game. It brought so much joy to him to see his kids play games.

My oldest brother joined the Army and retired from the Army. The next brother joined the Army and so did my baby brother. I went to college to play football. They knew what they wanted to do with their lives. I had no idea what I wanted to be. When I got out of college I still had no idea what I wanted to be. I had 9 different jobs one year. I hated them all. I just couldnt stand doing something just for the sake of money. I ended up taking a job as a Public Safety Officer. It was in Durham we were fireman and policeman a trend that was going around at the time to save money. I liked it , it was exciting. But as the years went by I saw too much. I saw so many kids that didnt have a dad. Didnt have the chance to play games. Didnt have a positive role model in their lives. And I began to realize locking up people was not the answer at least not to me. So I retired eary. I did not use but three sick days in 18 years and I had 1 years worth of vacation so I got a 20 year retirement package.

I had started coaching while I was in the Police Dept. Working with the inner city kids and the Dept let me use comp time to coach. So I started coaching and have been doing it ever since. I hope to think Ive made a difference and still do. My mom is still alive 74 and still looking 50. She is an absolute saint sent from heaven. My dad passed away in Oct of 2000. My hero the guy that I always dreamed one day of being just like.

There is not a day that goes by I dont miss him. We never had much growing up. But we had each other. My brothers were and are still my best friends. My mom is my rock. She is the most beautifull and precious woman in the world. Just a smidgen ahead of my wife but dont tell her that. I have two boys one 21 in the Sheriffs academy he graduates on the 18th of this month. He is so much like me. He just has never known what he wanted to do with his life. He wants to coach football too. My youngest is the exact opposite. He knew what he wanted to do when he was 5. Go to his favorite school and play baseball. He is so driven and focused and both are great young men. Very humble and respectfull. I am a very luck man. Molded by an American hero and a Godly mother. Thanks for letting me share my story. There is so much more I could say. But this post is probaly way too long already.

What an awesome thread! Reading all these stories has made me want to research our family tree as I did not get to know either set of my grandparents as they all passed away when I was a young girl. My story is also a little vanilla with a little bit of tear gas mixed in!

I was very blessed to have a father who had an incredible impact on my life - awesome mother too. My dad had a "larger than life" personality - was one of 5 children who grew up in Dallas and his father owned a grocery store. Dad played football for one year at SMU, hurt his knee, and joined the workforce.

When I was seven, my dad moved from Dallas to Amarillo to start an agricultural chemical company. He was a terrific salesman - I guess he had to be because what he sold was tear gas - was used as a grain fumigant - killed all the bugs in the grain. (It has since been taken off the market.) I grew up going to almost every grain elevator in Texas, Oklahoma, Nebraska, Kansas, etc. I later worked for him after college.

My dad was a HUGE Cowboys fan - some of my greatest memories were going to the Cowboys games at the Cotton Bowl and later Texas Stadium. He also loved college football - he would take us to the Cotton Bowl almost every year no matter who was playing and what the weather was like. My mother did not like football but I quickly discovered that going to the games and watching games with my dad was a blast and I wanted to be with him.

Although my dad travelled all the time, he always was major presence in our lives and called us from wherever he was. In fact, my sister and I were recently talking and we both remembered our dad always calling us in college- not our mom. When I got out of college, I moved away to a town to work where I did not know anyone and lived by myself. My dad started calling me daily to check on me and we really started a wonderful friendship that got past the "How much?" He also gave me a subscription to the "Dallas Cowboys Weekly" newspaper - I started reading it so I could carry on a conversation with him! I also had to read the newspaper so I could talk politics with him - his other favorite topic.

When I got married, my husband and I would both have to quickly read the sports page on Saturday mornings so we could carry on a conversation with my dad when he would call later on that morning! One of my favorite possessions to this day is a letter we found that my dad had written to Tex Schramm (Cowboy president/GM) complaining about the then quarterback - Danny White - and Tex's answer back to him. I've framed both letters.

I also learned about work ethic and how to treat people from watching and working with my dad. He worked hard and financially had many ups and downs. I observed how fairly and generously he treated people of various races and backgrounds as they worked for him or came in contact with him. Although my mother had us at church every time the door opened, my father (didn't regularly attend church) was the one who was really living the Christian life. If someone was having a family problem, he would quietly and generously help them.

My father got to see three of the grandchildren before he passed away sixteen years ago on December 24th. No, we are not sad on Christmas now because we know he would kick our butt for ruining his favorite holiday! When looking back at Christmas, I remember when we were in high school and college, he could not stand it on Christmas morning - he would still wake us all up at 6 am to open presents and start the festivities!

He would be so proud of his grandchildren (two of them are playing college sports -one D1 s o c c e r and one D2 baseball) - I know he's watching! Don't know how he is going to like the Cowboys building a new stadium without a hole in the roof - I just picture him up there with Tom Landry and loving every minute of Tony Romo! For his love of politics, if he was here he would be having a blast following everything and stirring up trouble debating about the candidates!

I am writing this to encourage all you dads to develop a relationship with your daughters - you can add so much to their lives! Yes, you can do it as they get older.

Sports is such a great common demoninator in families - I now watch Sportscenter so I can carry on a conversation with my 15 year old quiet son - my dad taught me a lot about communication through sports! I am a lucky gal to have had such great parents - my mother's story another day!

quote:

I am writing this to encourage all you dads to develop a relationship with your daughters - you can add so much to their lives! Yes, you can do it as they get older.

I so glad my daughter was born five years before my son. I don't know wht would have happened they other way around with sports. I was very involved with her sports through high school. I coached her travel softball teams until she was seventeen. She told me when she gets on the college team bus she thinks of our rides to travel tournaments. It's where we did our real talking.