A TRIBUTE TO MY FATHER

I want to begin by thanking my Mother for choosing the most wonderful father for us kids, one that we could respect, emulate, and adore.

My Dad’s story is one of a life well lived. He was the third of four children born to a humble school teacher in rural Wisconsin, and spent his boyhood finding mischief on the family farm.

No matter the role my father played, he did it well. He was a good son, a good brother, a good brother-in-law, a good husband, a good father, and a good grandfather. He was ‘Uncle Jim’ to so many-both Brewers and Neefes-and he loved you all.

My father loved sports. He loved playing them, he loved watching them. He was an outstanding athlete in high school, playing both basketball and baseball. A story he loved to tell us kids was how his baseball team was on their way to the State Tournament his senior year, when his coach decided his star pitcher (my Dad) should have a rest. So, he put in a relief pitcher who in one inning ruined Dad’s no-hitter and lost their bid to the tournament.

My Dad continued to play softball as a young man, and he also took up bowling and golf. He often bragged about how he hit a hole-in-one TWICE in his golfing career! It was another of his favorite tales.

My father was an especially loyal and dedicated Milwaukee Brewers fan. He saw many games in person at Milwaukee County Stadium back in the 60’s and 70’s. We kids grew up hearing about the Milwaukee greats: Rollie Fingers, Eddie Mathews, Paul Moliter, Pete Vukovich, Sal Brando, Prince Fielder, Robin Yount, And, of course, Hank Aaron. My Dad was at the first game Hank played for the Brewers. What a thrill that must have been! Dad was so excited to see what kind of career Christian Yelich would have with the Brewers. He sure loved watching that young man step up to the plate.

Dad was an avid outdoorsman. He loved to hunt and fish, and spent much time in the beautiful wilds of Wisconsin. When we were kids, Dad built a little cabin about an hour or so north of Madison where we spent many weekends traipsing through the woods and fishing the red waters of Castle Rock Lake.

Dad also loved to travel, after he retired he visited almost all fifty states in the US, missing only Alaska and Hawaii. As a family, we took only one vacation-a camping trip to ‘the Great American West’ (Dad’s words). We drove through Yellowstone, Glacier National Park, The Black Hills and The Badlands, Mt. Rushmore; pitched the tent in a new campground every night. I was ten or eleven at the time and what I remember most about that trip was being hot, sweaty and miserable; and also Dad’s cussing out the tent that never seemed to stay up. It must have been just as memorable for Dad because we never did it again.

Dad loved tinkering on old cars. He was very proud of the fact that he ‘never paid more then $50.00 for any car that he ever owned’, but, then of course, spent all his time trying to keep them running.

I don’t remember all the cars we had, the turnover was fairly frequent; but my favorite was an old pink Cadillac Convertible. It was the car I learned to drive with, and after I got my license I was allowed to drive it to school if I took my brothers and sister, too. I felt like royalty as I pulled into the high school parking lot each morning. Sadly, that car didn’t last more then about a year....but, I believe Dad got his money’s worth.

My father was a romantic at heart, and he adored the movies. When we were kids he took us to the outdoor theatre about twice a month. How we looked forward to those balmy summer nights sitting on the hood of the old Rambler in our pj’s, watching the current hits-like ‘State Fair’. (Dad was quite smitten with Ann Margret).

My Dad taught us kids to love country music. As a teenager, I don’t think I ever walked into our house when George Jones, Loretta Lynn, Willie Nelson, Mel Tillis, or Patsy Cline wasn’t playing on the radio. But, I was a hard sell in the beginning-head over heels in love myself with The Beatles. I drove Dad crazy playing ‘Ticket to Ride’ over and over again one summer, until he’d replace my record with his own favorite, featuring the gritty baritone voice of Johnny Cash. Eventually, I did come around. Today I love country music, but, back then I think I only liked it because Dad did.

My father was a book keeper/accountant par excellence. He was respected for his ability and his integrity. When I was in college and had an afternoon off from classes, I would make the jaunt across town and visit him in his offices at Oscar Mayer- where he worked for over 40 years-and it was apparent to me how deeply he was regarded by his co-workers.

When my father was about 40, he and my Mom divorced. A couple of years later, Dad married our next door neighbor. Janet had four kids and Dad had four kids...although by then we were all mostly out of the house and starting lives on our own, I guess having two large families was too much for Janet. She had a hard time accepting my siblings and I, and our growing gang of children. One day, about 10 years into their marriage, she bluntly told me that we were no longer welcome in their lives. She made me believe that our Dad was happy with his new family and no longer needed ours. At the same time, she was telling Dad that we didn’t want to be part of his.

It was a very painful time for Jim, Deb, Dan and I. All our attempts to see or talk to Dad were snubbed. Eventually, we became resigned to the separation, which lasted almost twenty years. It wasn’t until Janet had a stroke fifteen years ago and became quite disabled, we kids began taking some tentative steps toward  ending the near estrangement with our father. When Janet died six years ago, my sister and I decided that we were going to do all we could to not only help Dad rebuild his life, but to also rebuild our relationship. I will be forever grateful we had the past six years together. We came full circle to occupy a special place in his life again, and he in ours.

It is probably obvious that I have been proud of my father my entire life. But, I have never been more proud as in the past few months. I knew he was struggling to survive the Covid lock down, miserable without his family and friends. No sports to watch on TV.  No place he could go. But, he never let on just how hard it was on him.

Then, one month ago, Dad became quite ill. Alone at the hospital, and already emotionally fragile, he was given the worst possible news. Advanced prostrate cancer that had metastasized to his bones.
It tore me apart when I heard...but, Dad handled it with courage and dignity. I know because I read the doctor’s report: how Dad, visibly shaken when told his diagnosis, replied in his calm and quiet way, ‘I knew it was more than the flu’.

Dad declined very rapidly after his admittance to the hospital. Confused, disoriented, and all alone. He was fighting a battle he was not destined to win.

This afternoon my sister and I stopped at one of Dad’s favorite restaurants, and had lunch in his honor. When we told the waitress that Dad had died; she sang his praises, then turned away and started to cry. I know in the coming days, this is a reaction we will get often. He touched so many lives.

How blessed we all were to have had him grace our lives for so long. I know that his mother, father, sister, brother and son are waiting for him with open arms.

Oh, Dad. I miss you already.  I will love you forever.