Leader of the Band

This is a song by Dan Fogelberg, you probably remember it. It was written about his Dad.

When my Father died on January 11, 2011, I tried to listen to the song but couldn’t. It wasn’t like the song was entirely about my Dad, it isn’t. the last line of the last verse is what I could not listen to, you know the one. “And Papa, I don’t think I said I love you near enough”.

Today I listened to the song for the first time since his death and it had the effect I feared it would have. The tears came, and so did the need to write this.

A little history is in order. First off, I always capitalize Dad, Father, Mom, Mother, or any other term used to refer to my Parents. I do it out of respect, always have and always will. That being said, my relationship with my Dad wasn’t ideal by any means. Growing up I was a jerky little kid who became more and more independent with each passing year. I wasn’t a child who deserved my Father’s name. I’m sure he wished I would just do what I was told and behaved. We were never huggers either. We were hand shakers and ‘I love you’ was never said at least I can’t remember it ever being said.

After high school my Mom, Dad, and Sister moved from Tampa to Illinois and I stayed in Tampa with my Grandmother and went to my only year of college. I couldn’t wait for more independence. Unfortunately, that independence only lasted that one year because 6 hours credit for the entire year was not going to satisfy my Dad or the draft board.

I moved to Illinois and moved into my Parents house once again and my Dad got me a job at the company he worked for. Almost got fired but instead got moved to another building the company had. I did pretty well there but it only lasted for a few months because in 1968 if you were healthy and not in school, the draft board would be calling and they did. I avoided the draft by enlisting in the Air Force.

I spent nearly 10 years in the Air Force and since I was the only one of my generation in my family to serve in the military, my Dad gained a little respect for me since he and most of the greatest generation were veterans.

After I discharged from the service, my Daughter and I moved to the Atlanta area where my Parents were living. I figured they could help me get started as a civilian again and I could help them if they needed anything. That was in October of 1978 and I’ve been here ever since.

As time passed and my Mom and Dad got older I watch my Dad go into several surgeries most of which were serious. I wanted to tell him I loved him but never could say the words. He had stroke in 2001 while in Washington DC for the christening of a Navy ship that bore the name of the ship he was on in WWII.

He was never the same after that. He could only say one word clearly. ‘Bullshit’ was used a lot from then on. My Mom took care of him for a few years after that until we moved him to an assisted living home. We had to trick him into going and I don’t think he ever forgave us for that. He always wanted to go home.

I went to see him just before he died and made my peace with him, and yes, I told him I loved him. I don’t think he understood me or even heard me but that was ok, I said it and was glad I did.

October 4th is his birthday. This year he would have been 94.

So back to the song ‘Leader of the Band’, he was the leader of our band, not a musical band but our family and Papa, I don’t think I said I love you near enough.

The Crooked Mouth Story Exposed!

What I always thought

My Dad had been telling this story for as long as I can remember. It would always involve the end of a big meal with lots of family around and it had to be dark, except for the lit candle of course. Since his stroke in 2001 and his passing in 2011, I have not heard the story told.

The family in my Dad’s version of the story always involved 4 family members and a handyman. I found a couple of versions online one of which involved a family member who went to college and his mouth was straight which makes no sense to me because it’s about a family of crooked mouth people. The other version involved a police officer who happened by just when they needed him. This one didn’t make sense to me so I’m going to stick with my Dad’s version.

Now for the story (names changed to protest the innocent)

Once upon a time there was a family called Crooked Mouth. They got their odd name because all the family members had crooked mouths. Pa Pa’s mouth was crooked off to the right. Ma Ma’s mouth was crooked off to the left. Their oldest child was a boy named Billy. Billy’s mouth was crooked in the down direction. The youngest child was a girl named Jane. Jane’s mouth was crooked in the up direction. They also had a Handyman who lived with them named George.

One night there was a fierce storm and all the electricity was out so the Crooked Mouths lit a candle so they could see. When it got to be bed time, they decided to blow out the candle and go to bed.

Pa Pa blew at the candle but all his efforts missed to the right of the flame. Ma Ma said to Pa Pa, “Move over and let me do it!”. She tried and tried but she missed to the left. Billy was the next to try bragging that he could do it. He couldn’t missing below the flame. Jane thought she would try but she missed high. Just when they were about to give up all hope of ever extinguishing the flame, George, who had been watching in amusement, stepped in front of the lit candle, licked his thumb and fore finger, and pinched out the flame.

The moral of the story is …. Could be several. Could be always lick your fingers before touching a candle flame. I like there is more than one way to accomplish a goal.