Thought maybe we could salute all the Dad's out there.

Mine is going to my first NFL game with my Dad, Bears vs. Giants when I was 8. He bought me a program and explained the game to me and I had a couple Coney Island dogs with all the fixings and a ice cream sundae. Had a Great time and can remember it like it was last week. My Dad was a kind and decent family Man.

Excellent topic, NNY78.

As many of you know, my dad has been suffering from dementia. Yesterday I spent the day with my parents to help drive them for errands before we stopped for lunch. I then cut the grass. At that point my dad came out to thank me and tell me I did enough cutting. I continued and he then tried to hand me cash. When I finished, he thanked me and said that I looked familiar, but he couldn't remember my last name.

But I have many delightful and poignant memories of my dad from childhood. He worked full-time and went to night school to earn his college degree, and I remember him studying at the dining room table every night I'd kiss him goodnight. He regularly preached to my brothers, sister and me to get as much education as you can, and he sacrificed greatly to send all four of us to a Jesuit high school. His one regret he told me in 1997 when he was facing surgery for colon cancer was that he didn't study to be a doctor. He said at the time he didn't think it was possible with a family and a job, but in retrospect he felt certain he could have done. Instead, after his degree was earned, he worked in hospital administration.

He was always slow to anger, but commanded deep respect among the family. Even as a child I could discern the respect given to him among his peers. He was a gentleman with a sense of humor that could be dry, dark and boisterous.

One memory that kind of sums him up: One summer when I was 5 my brother broke a fairly large window when he threw a ball from the back yard through our kitchen window. None of us kids in the neighborhood ever saw that happen, and some of the older kids told terrifying stories of how families had to move from their damaged homes because of broken windows.

A dozen kids waited outside to see my brother get the beating of a lifetime when my father got home. There was suppressed excitement and anxiety when his station wagon pulled into the driveway, and he expressionlessly made his way to the backyard. My brother had tears in his eyes when Dad called his name, pointed to the window and said sternly, "Did you do this?"

My brother could only nod, controlling his sobs. Dad then said, "Where were you when you did this?" My brother pointed to a place just past a large maple tree. Dad then put his arm around him, smiled and said, "Wow! What a strong arm you have for your age! Get your glove and let's play catch!"

I remember that day in 1970 as though it happened yesterday.

Klydon1,

Thank you for sharing that wonderful story!

Great story klyd! Thanks for sharing it with us. God bless your dad.

You too, NNY.

Nice, Klyd .

But is this thread about Father's Day memories, or about memories of our fathers?

Well, either way, my Dad's almost 85 and we're still very close. I'm not as concerned with the memories that I already have as I am with the memories that we're still going to make. I'm selfish that way. I want him to live to be 100 and see his grandchildren well into their adulthood.

Father's Day memory: That's easy because I got married on Father's Day. But that probably meant more to my wife and my father-in-law. Their dance is certainly a priceless memory.

I just had a great one. My two granddaughters took me out for lunch. Their mother will bake for me a lemon pie; she done so every father's day for the past twenty years. But you know, every father's day is special. I've got a great bunch of kids (and grandkids).

I'll add one story that I think is kind of revealing about my dad.

I spent my 30th birthday in the hospital, having cancer surgery. I was released from the hospital a few days later (it was the same day that Ronald Reagan was shot). My parents came over to my house to see me and my dad came into the bedroom to talk to me. We never really had close father/son "talks" because neither of us was made that way but I know he loved me (and my siblings) as much as is humanly possible. He couldn't stand to see his kids in any kind of pain or trouble and as he asked me about the cancer and what was going through my mind I could see he was getting emotional. He asked me why I waited to go to a doctor and I answered him honestly - I told him I was afraid. He just about lost it then. It was at this time that I announced I was starved ---- a few of my friends sent over bags of reefer for me and my ex so I'd be in less pain. Well, one of the side effects of the grass was getting the munchies and I was craving Chinese food. My dad, in his best Augie Doggy and Doggy Dad voice said, "My son, my son ... he wants Chinese food, he gets Chinese food". He went out and returned about 30 minutes with two HUGE shopping bags full of Chinese food from my favorite restaurant. It was his way of telling me he loved me.

(BTW - I ate so much food that my belly expanded - right near my surgical stitches - I was in PAIN, but it was exquisite pain. LOL)

I miss my dad.

SC,

Thanks for sharing the great story. I miss my Dad too.

Nice story Kly! I can only imagine how it would feel to not be recognized by your own father. Thank God for the great memories of when he was "himself."

SC, another great story. Don't think it's uncommon that some fathers (or mothers) have a hard time being "close" YET we feel the love, especially at times of need and/or bad health. And, great friends who help you ease the pain. Munchie time.

One of the many memories for me (of many). When I lived in MI, I use to work downtown. My dad's cleaners was in the area and instead of paying for downtown parking, I'd park there and he'd drop me/pick up every day and bring me back to my car.

I always waited til the last minute to put gas in my car and he'd always tell me, "Ann, you're riding on a prayer. You need money for gas?" I'd tell him I'm gonna get some now. More than once, he'd pull a twenty out of his wallet. I'd say "no I have the money, I'm going to get gas now." One time I as I was pulling out, he tries again to give me money we tossed it back and forth. LOL. As I thought I WON and pulled away he ran back to the open window, threw a twenty in my car and went back into the cleaners. He always joked around and kept saying to me "you're stubborn just like your mother." (teary eyed as I remember)


TIS

I'm enjoying these posts. SC, your relationship with your dad is very much like the one I've had with my dad: the deep feelings were there and understood, but remained unspoken to some extent.

I lived at home when I went to college, so I officially left home when I went to law school in Boston. My parents drove me up and helped move me in. As they were getting ready to go home, my dad pulled me aside and said that my mom was going to miss me, so please don't forget to stay in touch, and with a handshake gave me one sentence of advice before he left: "Don't take any shit from anybody." I passed that on to my boys when they went to college.

Pizzaboy, I salute your outlook on spending time with your dad. Make the most of it. Oli, I'm betting nothing tastes so sweet as those Father's Day pies.

TIS, my mom still tries to slip me money, which is silly. She'll insist and say it's for gas or spend it on the kids, and I sometimes have to grab it to end the bickering.

But my oldest son is making pretty decent money with his internship and other summer job, but if he's going somewhere I slip him some cash, and now his age and modest means compel him to resist the offerings and I end up prevailing in giving him the money. I guess it never ends.

Some nice stories here guys...Thanks for sharing...I wish i had a story to tell ya, but i don't.

When I was 13 or 14 years old, I had a paper route. I remember one Sunday I was delivering those monstrously large Sunday papers loaded into my wagon. Now, this was in a Pittsburgh winter and there was quite a bunch of snow on the ground and I was freezing. However, my wagon broke down about a third of the way through my route. I went back home in distress, but soon after my Dad arrived home. He was a fireman and had just returned from night turn. Surely, he was as tired as could be, but he put his jacket, gloves, and scarf back on, walked with me down to Lincoln Ave where I had left my wagon. He loaded up a bunch of papers into the shoulder carrying bag we had and helped me deliver the rest of my route. Now, that's a Dad.

My dad was tough and strict, quite the taskmaster, but he adored his family and I always knew we were his first priority.

My dad was a pharmacist in the local drug store. Everyone in the neighborhood knew him. It always made me so proud when someone would ask me if I was "Mike the druggist's daughter".

Because he worked retail hours, he was home one day during the week. That was "our day", and he used to take me to the Bronx Zoo several times a month. Back then they had the "Big Cat House", all of them in cages. There was a tiger named Dakkar and he convinced me it was MY tiger and that Dakkar knew me when I came to the zoo.

Speaking of weddings, PB, when I danced to "Daddy's Little Girl" with my dad at my wedding, I bawled like a baby and totally humiliated myself. I lost him 20 years ago, and there are still times that I miss him so much, it's like a physical blow.

BTW, he loved The Godfather films, and he would have loved this site.

TIS,Kly,SC,

My Dad had a tough exterior too and a soft side as well. He was an old school Italian who would not work for other people and he expected us kids to be responsible and work hard. My Dad made a lot of money with the beer distributorship he owned and could of bought each of us kids a decent used car but instead he bought old beat up VW bugs for the girls and Chevys for the boys that didn't run and we had to help him fix them up every Saturday if we wanted a running car. He was smart and loving, he knew we would work hard to get those cars running and he got to spend time with us kids all the while. Really miss him.

My best story about my father I have 2 of them.

When I was very young he would take me to the globe movie house in the Bronx somewhere.

Get in for the first show. It cost a quarter. You saw three science fiction or horror movies. You saw 6 or seven cerials like Flash Gordon. Saw 15 cartoons.

My father fell a sleep while I watched all of them. If I really liked one of the movies I would stay and wait to it came on again.

After I would wake Daddio up and we would go home. That was the best memory i have with him.

---

The next oh there was no next.

Thanks for sharing the great stories and memories.

Don't ask me why, but the image of neighborhood kids lining up to see their buddy get the beating of a lifetime just makes me crack a wide smile.

My fondest Father's Day memory is being a teen with a job and having the money to pay for a gift myself. I think I got him some sort of summer shirt and I always felt happy when he wore it.

Pelham Parkway, just off White Plains Road. About fifty feet from the the L. Right?

The Globe eventually became a porno theater. It's been empty for years, though. There's a TD Bank right next door that I use sometimes. And right across the way was Hooper's, which had the best hamburger in the Bronx for years. But that's gone now, too.

Do you know who grew up right there? Carl Capotorto. He played Little Paulie on "The Sopranos." He's a nice guy and he's openly gay, which, believe me, had to be tough growing up in that neighborhood. It was all very old school Italians when we were kids. Today it's mixed Albanian and Latino, with some leftover Italians .

Some nice quotes about Dads.


My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me.

- Jim Valvano


They say that from the instant he lays eyes on her, a father adores his daughter. Whoever she grows up to be, she is always to him that little girl in pigtails. She makes him feel like Christmas.

- Jessica N.


I've had a hard life, but my hardships are nothing against the hardships that my father went through in order to get me to where I started.

- Bartrand Hubbard

A Father is someone who carries pictures in his wallet where his money used to be.

- NH

Do you remember Meyers house of sports. He looked like Mickey Mantle I bought my American football equipment there. They were cheaper then Paragon and you always got free stuff there.

I am pretty sure my Godfather Gabe Probably supplied them with their Pornos

Hey pizza are you going to Dion's concert tonight?

Funny you guys are talking about how cool your fathers were I wish I had that.

Oh well.

Yeah, but Paragon is still there .

And living in the Bronx, we usually went to Frank's sporting goods, which is also still there on the corner of Tremont and Park. The neon sign is even still the same!

And sorrily, it's no to Dion. This time, anyway. My Dad's here for the weekend and the kids are all home, so we 're just going to hang out and barbecue all weekend .

Yes, we are having a barbeque as well.

Got shirts for the grand kids that says "Daddy loves me best". Got a shirt for my Son that says "daddy loves you all the same"

I have one that says"uncle tony rule" when my uncle tony would come to our house when I was a kid. He did not want kids talking at the dinner table. We called it the "uncle tony rule."

Our kids and our grand kids were told about the uncle tony rule. When they get to loud I say uncle tony rule.

Here's a sports clip that I think fathers and sons should watch together.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t2G8KVzTwfw

Thanks for posting that I never saw that before.

Summer of 1979, my dad got home from another 12 hour shift and asked if I wanted to go to The White Sox game. Oh, heck yeah! Love my Sox!

We got to Comiskey Park and I saw a Sox replica jersey at the souvenir stand... those old school white ones with the black collars. I wanted one of those soooo bad. I asked my dad if he would spot me the 15 bucks and I would pay him back when we got home. He gave me a 20 and told me to get a hat as well and not to worry about paying him back.

We beat the Cleveland Indians and I had a great night with my dad. We didn't get home until 11 pm and he was up and out of the house by 4 am to start his 12 hour shift at 5.

Now that's a great dad!

Best wedding dance ever.

My oldest daughter some how became a ranger hockey fan. I think if she could have any job in the world she wanted. She would pick driving the Zamboni machine at Madison square garden.

I wanted to get her a gift for her birth day. I think shevwas 15 at the time. Her favorite ranger was a player named Mike Gartner something like that. It was the same shirt to players wear had to be made special. It cost over 200 dollars that was a lot of money for a ranger shirt back then.

Well she got it I realized it was much to big for her. So I got her another one. Again too big third time I got it right. Then a week after they traded mike gartener from the rangers to another team?

She still wears that shirt when she goes to ranger games.

Look at the guests they whew probably the crew. They were surprised by the dance they did. They robably surprised them with it.

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