Tag Archives: father

Three Calls A Day was Chubby’s Way

Chubby (my dad) followed an ironclad “act of kindness” regimen every day, seven days a week.

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He called three people for one reason – to ask how he could help.

Three calls a day.  No exceptions.  Even on holidays.

Dad was meticulous about keeping each conversation short (he told me he tried to limit calls to less than ten minutes) and linear (he said the calls should be focused on only one thing – how he could help them.).

After a brief hello and some small talk, Dad would ask if everything was going well – in business, family and health – and then ask, READ MORE 

Truckin’ with Dad

“It’s like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.”

—E.L. Doctorow

Today’s story is contributed by Marchell Mascheck

just being with dad

Sometimes, just being with dad is the lesson.

My father — a truck driver back in Kansas City, where we grew up.

My first driving lesson — a dark, deserted highway. It was very late at night.

Back then, cars didn’t have seat belts. They were giant, clunky vehicles with massive, oversized steering wheels. This was not exactly the most conducive configuration for a driving lesson, especially since I was three years old!

Yes, that’s right. A toddler. Daddy let me stand on the bench seat next to him. I was just tall enough to wrap my tiny arm around his large neck.

It was a simple and quiet experience, yet it remains one of the most profoundly memorable moments of my life. I can still remember standing on the leather seat, my feet faintly bouncing on the hard, uncushioned springs beneath.

Resting my head on Daddy’s shoulder, we just cruised down that black, empty highway for miles.

It was the best driving lesson of all time. Just being with dad. Sometimes it’s the only lesson in life — just being with those you love.

just being with dad

Family Portrait with Marchell (front right)



Marchell was born and raised in Kansas City, Missouri. She attended University of Houston and St. Thomas University. She has been married to her husband, Carl, for 28 years and counting. She is a recruiter for The Alexander Group, and spends her leisure time traveling and honing her photography skills. She is also an avid motorcycle racing fan.


Father Misspelled

“Mama was my greatest teacher, a teacher of compassion, love and fearlessness. If love is as sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love.”

—Stevie Wonder


Today’s story is contributed by Marshall Davis Jones.

Marshall Davis Jones

Marshall Davis Jones

I was six years old
in a national spelling bee.
genius
complex words….
duodenum….
serendipity…..
floccinaucinihilipilification
.
up until the final round
one word between me and victory
the spell master clears his throat
young man your word is father…..

Spelling Father from stillmotion on Vimeo.


Marshall Davis Jones is a world-bridger.His unique gift to make us think, feel and realize runs deep into the human experience. As a professional spoken word artist and dramatic performer, he has been featured in two TEDx Conferences, at the Musical Instrument Museum, the Omega Institute and BBC World Service.

His clients have included numerous colleges & universities (Pace, NYU, Utah State etc),
The Leon Sullivan Foundation, the I.Am Angel Foundation and the Jordin Sparks Experience. He has shared the podium with the likes of Marc Lamont Hill, Ambassador Andrew Young, Henry Louis Gates, and Simon Sinek.

Marshall regularly conducts workshops with youth and adults.


Daddy’s Girl: Honoring My Father’s Legacy


Today’s story is contributed by Kirsten West Savali.

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man’s character, give him power.”

—Abraham Lincoln

My father, Theodore Joseph “Bubber” West, was blessed with both in abundance. As a business owner, civic leader and city alderman for over seventeen years, he used his influence to help everyone he encountered, never once expecting reciprocity. Daddy never met a stranger. If he had a dollar, he would give you that dollar and apologize that he didn’t have more to share.

Daddy

Kirsten with her Daddy on graduation day.

One of his most endearing characteristics was that he loved to laugh; you could feel the unfettered joy in his laughter. He told the corniest jokes, but you couldn’t help but laugh with him, because it was contagious. Tears would stream from his eyes, rendering it impossible not to join in the moment.

His favorite joke was when people would rush into his office asking for one thing or another; he’d look up at his ceiling and say, “Ssssh… did you hear that?” People would always abruptly stop speaking, follow his gaze, and say, “No, Bubber, I didn’t hear it.” He’d say, “Listen closer; you still don’t hear that?” They would concentrate harder, listening for anything out of the ordinary then say, “No Bubber, I still don’t hear anything.” That twinkle in his eye would get brighter, and he’d say, “I know, it’s been like that all day!” Now, that might not be funny in and of itself, but the fact that he thought it was hilarious made it so… every single time.
READ MORE 

7 Ways My Father Influenced Who I Am

“My heroes are and were my parents. I can’t see having anyone else as my parents.”

—Michael Jordan


Today’s story contributed by Harold Herring.

my father

Harold Herring with his mother and father

When I was a freshman in college…we were asked to write a paper on the greatest man we’d ever met. It was an easy and immediate decision for me… I wrote about my Father.

Since that first year of college…I’ve met five Presidents, two Vice-Presidents, numerous Generals, Admirals, sports stars, singers, international ministry leaders and assorted other celebrities and persons in authority.

If I were asked to write the same paper during this the 25th anniversary of my 39th birthday year…I would still write about my father…for whom I will always call Daddy, so why change.

He was and still is the greatest man I’ve ever met.

My purpose in this blog is not just to write something sentimental about my father but there are several things that “Mr. Harold,” as Dad was known in our town, taught me…that will benefit and bless all who read these words. READ MORE 

Father-Son Olympic Moment – The Rest of the Story

“A child looks up at the stars and wonders. A great father puts a child on his shoulders and helps him to grab that star.”

—Reed Markham


Today’s story is contributed by Rick Weinberg.

This story is a tribute to the grit of a son and a dad who raised a great man. Dedication, courage, focus and grit. Some have it. Some don’t. What separates great men from mere boys? Our guest writer, Rick Weinberg, takes it from here.

Derek Redmond

Derek Redmond and his father, Jim

Unlike Carl Lewis and Daley Thompson, Derek Redmond is not a name that conjures up memories of Olympic gold medals. But it is Redmond who defines the essence of the human spirit. Redmond arrived at the 1992 Olympic Summer Games in Barcelona determined to win a medal in the 400. The color of the medal was meaningless; he just wanted to win one. Just one.

He had been forced to withdraw from the 400 at the 1988 Games in Seoul, only 10 minutes before the race, because of an Achilles tendon injury. He then underwent five surgeries over the next year. READ MORE 

My Father – A Successful Unhappy Man

“The most important thing in life is knowing the most important things in life.”

—David F. Jakielo


Today’s story is contributed by Dr. Bruce H. Jackson.

unhappy man, lieutenant

Bruce’s father, Lt. C. Charles Jackson

My father was a self-made man. Growing up during the Depression was a great challenge and blessing for him.

His father, my grandfather (who I never met), was a blind doctor. He made house calls in exchange for eggs and fresh produce. I’m always amazed how this man’s diligence and grit rubbed off on my father.

My father told me of the days he hunted for squirrel and rabbit so they could supplement their meals. He worked before and after school. The family lived a very frugal and controlled life — as my grandfather didn’t like to have his children leave the property much or be out of his control. READ MORE