At the local meeting,two women came up to me and said"vader...sunday is
Fathers Day and we hate our fathers.We dont want to see our fathers.Can
you do us a favor and write a column on your father.He sounds terrific.Maybe it would make us feel better." So here it is.My father was born May 24th,1916.He got married to my mother when he was 18 and became a father at 19.My mother was 17.Frank was his first child and he was so proud of him.But things did go wrong with the birth of my late brother,Frank.He was born with the cord around his neck and he wasnt
breathing.The doctors did what they could and removed the cord,but he was in a incubator for one week.They monitored him.They told my father
that that doubted my older brother Frank would be normal.You see,my older brother who I write about was special.This was before the Kennedys.This was before The Special Olympics.My older brother did not get the proper oxygen at birth and it left him retarded.Frank was a very happy child.Boy was he happy! He had a bike and at an early age,Frank loved things mechanical.He could fix any car and he could read the sports.Sports was his favorite and he could have been an athlete.But back then,Frank broke his leg because as a kid...he was hit by a car.The guy had no insurance and he was in the hospital for one week.My father was very,very grief stricken.He began to question the existence of God and then he made a novena to St.Jude and asked St.Jude to let Frank live.And
the saint of the impossilbe granted his request.But my father and mother w
were married at the height of the depression and there was no work.So
my father with my uncles and grandfather left the women of the family.Daddy and the above went to Pennyslavia in order to find work.And
what a chore it was! They did yard work! They cleaned the streets! They
did busboy work in order to put food on the table.My father did not want to
leave my mother and baby Frank..but there was no work and she couldnt
go with him and this was happening to a great many seniors back then.Theyhad to leave their families for awhile and find work.They were separated for 6 months and mom stayed with my grandmother.She needed
help with baby Frank and sometimes she wouldnt hear from the men for aweek. The telecommunications back then were terrible.So was the phone service.But daddy kept in touch.As soon as the assignment was over,themen of the family came home and never left the women again.Baby
Frank was getting to be a handful.You see there was no social services.All my mother had was her in laws and my dad..she was all alone raising this special needs child.My father made a vow never to get separated again.And he never did it again.The times were really hard.Some times my
parents did not eat for 3 days..but had milk and stuff for baby Frank.One week they had rice and beans for 3 days.Till this day,I hate white rice and
black beans.Daddy got a job in the dye house.It was a dangerous job.He was a very good worker and by that time,mom had my other brother Stanley.The dyes houses then ( they are obsolute now) did not have safety
rules and my father was injured on the job.There was no workmans pay.He went to work anyway.He couldnt get disability it wasnt around as yet and he had to go to work with a very bad back.I had a very good childhood.Daddy made sure of it.WHen I was little,he brought us all a Christmas tree and put these gifts under it.Then he took us around to see the lights and Christmas decorations.He also showed me how to address
Christmas cards..My father did not graduate high school.He wanted to be
a lawyer..But you see this wasnt done 93 years ago because my daddy
was a Italian American and then Italian American were viewed with the greatest suspicion.ANd it left him broken hearted.He loved the law and he loved the spoken word.And as a man,he loved sports.My late father loved
boxing and could talk about any fight that was ever won.When he was 15,he had a dog and that dog loved him.But that man on the block did not like the Italians and took a gun and shot my fathers dog.Several years later,e choked at home.There is justice in the world.My father never got over the death of his dog and this is why I love all animals.I hate guns.I had several pets as a child and I have got 8 cats..I have got 3 feral cats,1 stray cat,2 indoor cats,5 possums and 1 skunk that I feed regularly! I was told not to feed the skunk..but what do I do now? Let me continue about my father.My father went to busines school.It was called Drakes and graduated at the top of his class.He did various chores for business but could not get ahead because of the Depression.My father never complained.He just worked and he wanted the best for his children.He began to read a great deal.In my house...there was various newspapers,and he had a library of books.I had 7 bookcases in my room and everyone of then was read.My father loved to sing and we did the Fourtune Teller together.He had a sense of humour and Frank was getting better.Frank learned to read and write and in the early 1950s ,my brother along with Doggy Huggett raced a sports car.It was called the 81! My brothers racing career was stopped because back in the 1950s things were not so good.My father wanted Frank to have a well paying job and He did that for 7 years.Then in 1962....at the height of his recovery,my
older brother got sick.He was sick for a long time and then my father got sick also.They were both in the hospital and my mother had her hands full.
I think this is why she turned to drinking because there were in 1962 no
social services to help us.In fact,in 1962....a social worker came over and
this infuraited my father.Someone made a complaint and this was 1962 and the social worker was asking questions.This was the last time that myh father and I dealt with social services.I was almost taken away from my parents all because of a anonymous complaint.The social worker found
that the allegations were not true and that there was n o evidence of abuse in the home and in fact they remarked how clean the house was.My father
always asked me who made this allegation about this abuse.I put this out of my mind now but I found my notes and I dont know who did this to this day and if you are reading my column let me say this...Why did you do it?
What right do you have? What right does social services have in dividing
the families? ANd how many families are being torn apart all because of one complaint? If you were so concerned,you could have visited baby
Frank and my father in the hospital.Frank was real ill and we almost lost him and I wouldnt be able to see him again if they found that this story was true.GO TO HELL! I am sorry...There was no drugs.No other women and such like this in my home.My father didnt thin k of it.We had very good conversations.In fact at the age of 14,I came home and I asked who FDR
was! My father told me he was the greatest president going and that summer he took me up to Hyde Park to see FDRS home and I will never
forget this.I also went to Cooperstown and we went down to the shore and the Jersey shore then was beautiful.The reality show if full of it.People dont\dress like this in New Jersey.Believe me,I know.My father loved to read and we had several magazines and such.;He also wrote letters to the editors and called talk radio.He would call Bob Grant.He was a good guy.
But towards the end of his life.,my dad who was a Kennedy democrat became a Richard Nixon Republican and believe me with baby Frank now
at home and discussing sports and my mother discussing the world events,my home was wonderful.Daddy never voted democrat again,yet he still would talk about the days he was working for food and he talked about his days away from mom and he never forgot it.At the age of 42,my father took the test to go into The Post Office.At 42,he got the highest mark.He got a 98 on the test.The highest is 100.He stayed at the post office for 26 years until he died on November 1st,1987.Daddy was in the hospital and he signed himself out and came home and he was going.He sat in the chair and his last words...:"Vader...I am dying." Then my father closed his eyes and slumped forward.I heard the death rattle.He died in my arms.and I will never forget him and noman will ever take the place of my father.Happy Fathers Day in Heaven and thank you,daddy..vader.