Author Archives: Greg Hague

About Greg Hague

I am an entrepreneur, attorney, author, motivational speaker, pilot, and world motorcycle traveler. First and foremost I am a dad. And, I am the founder of www.savvydad.com. My new book, How Fathers Change Lives, is a "Chicken Soup" collection of stories about remarkable dads... 52 examples of doing it right. What they say. What they do. Best advice. The stories are inspiring, touching and fun. The life lessons are great. This book has been recommended by some very special people including my friend, NY Times #1 Best Selling author Harvey Mackay ("How to Swim with the Sharks.."). In its first month it received over 50 five-star Amazon reviews. Learn more about Greg. Follow Greg on Google+

Burnt Finger

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“Experience is a hard teacher, because she gives the test first, the lesson afterward.”

— Vernon Sanders Law

Today’s story is contributed by Risa Nye.

When I was a little girl, my mom had to go to the hospital a few times. I don’t remember why exactly, but I do remember how things were different around the house when my dad was in charge.

burnt finger

 

He liked to cook us breakfast in the morning, and always made us try to guess “the secret ingredient” — in our eggs, our Cream of Wheat, or our pancakes. It was usually cheese, but sometimes he surprised us with something else.

And, let’s just say he allowed us do things we weren’t allowed to do when Mom was around. There is one event in particular that’s seared into my memory, for reasons that will become obvious. Here’s the way I remember it: READ MORE 

Great Dads May Die, But Their Heritage Lives On

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“Visualize this thing you want. See it, feel it, believe in it. Make your mental blueprint and begin.”

—Robert Collier

Today’s story is contributed by Tom Krause.

The earliest memory I have of my father is one of me as a young boy holding his hand by his two last fingers as we walked together. His hands seemed so large. His fingers were all I could actually grip.

Tom Krause, heritage

A young Tom and his dad at the zoo.

My father was a bread deliveryman. I remember the times when he would stop by the house in the early morning on those cold days when I was home from school over Christmas break. I would ride on the floor of that bread truck as he made deliveries to the stores. I don’t remember if those old trucks even had heaters. It didn’t matter. The smell and warmth from the bread that had just come from the bakery ovens would both make my mouth water and keep me warm at the same time.

In high school I became interested in athletics. My father would attend all my games. READ MORE 

Urban Meyer – Double Tough Dads

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“I remember the time I was kidnapped and they sent a piece of my finger to my father. He said he wanted more proof.”

—Rodney Dangerfield

Today’s story is about Urban Meyer.

Nature versus nurture? Which one really makes the difference? In the case of Ohio State football coach, Urban Meyer, it’s crystal clear.

Urban grew up in Ashtabula, Ohio. His dad, Bud, was a chemical engineer. Bud was tough, strict, and extremely nonpermissive with Urban and his two sisters. B’s or better on all report cards — C’s were average… and average was failing in Bud’s eyes.

Urban Meyer

Urban Meyer

In the third grade, Urban started acting up at school. Enter Betty Stofko, Urban’s third grade teacher. Bud, strict father that he was, told Betty, “Give him a good spanking.” Betty said she couldn’t without a parent’s written permission. Bud signed a note on the spot.

“That was the end of the nonsense,” Betty said. “All I had to do was show him the note in my drawer, and he behaved.” READ MORE 

The Pie That Made My Dad Propose

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“When you die, if you get a choice between going to regular heaven or pie heaven, choose pie heaven. It might be a trick, but if it’s not, mmmmmmmm, boy.”

—Jack Handy

Today’s story is contributed by Sue Marquis Bishop

When my father started talking about an old girlfriend’s cooking, my mom baked him this little number. He decided she was a keeper.

My mother prepared a formal dinner with dessert every night of the week for her husband and four children, and the six of us ate together, at the table in the dining room, Dad at one end and Mom at the other.

Old Fashioned Cream Pie

Old Fashioned Cream Pie

Whenever the dessert was cream pie, Dad would ask, “Did you know I married your mom because she made the best pie I ever ate?” Then he’d pause and chuckle. “Even better than Josephine’s pies,” he would add with a wink in my mom’s direction.

Then he’d retell the Marquis family story. My parents met on a blind date in Charleston, West Virginia, in the spring of 1938. She said he arrived at the door in a brown-checkered suit. His first words were, “Hi, I’m Harold Marquis. Do you want to go dancing?” READ MORE 

Joe Bonsall & The Oak Ridge Boys – G.I.Joe

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“I am not ashamed to admit that no man I ever met was my father’s equal, and I never loved any other man as much.”

—Hedy Lemarr

This story is courtesy of Joe Bonsall & The Oak Ridge Boys.

This story is told through melody and verse. Joe Bonsall and the Oak Ridge Boys have a special treat for you today as they perform “G.I. Joe and Lillie”.

It starts like this:

“He was a streetwise kid from Philly. Just 1944, joined up in Uncle’s army, hit the beach before the war. A decorated hero…”

Now, Joe Bonsall & The Oak Ridge Boys: READ MORE 

Dad Said “No Way.” I Did It Anyway.

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“Learning is always rebellion… Every bit of new truth discovered is revolutionary to what was believed before.”

—Margaret Lee Runbeck

Today’s story is contributed by Pamela P.

Everything Dad said I couldn’t do, I did. I was determined to prove him wrong, to be my own kid.

Athletics — “girls don’t do that,” said Dad. Other “no ways.” Boys. Bikes. Electronics. Pants. I did them anyway. All the things that “girls didn’t (or shouldn’t) do,” I would jubilantly embrace.
no way dad

Pamela’s dad, Aquiles, as a young man

My family is Chilean; we came here when I was 3, fleeing Pinochet as political refugees. America didn’t soften Dad. He was — and is — the stereotypical Latino man (and dad). Overprotective. Authoritarian. Rigid. Sexist. And racist, too.

Dad was obsessed with sheltering his “little girl” from the ways of a land strange to him, but so comfortable, a perfect home to her. He was doing his best (I know now) but he was also driving me crazy.

(You can probably tell, I resented my father growing up. Today I am exactly what he was not — an artist, a progressive, an activist — he embodied everything I would come to abhor.)

My parents would later return to Chile (the States weren’t for them). My sister and I, as adults, stayed on. READ MORE 

Get Busy Living

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“Get busy living or get busy dying.”

—Stephen King, ‘The Shawshank Redemption’

Today’s story is contributed by Jason Dwurple.

Mom died in 2011. Her loss devastated Dad and me. We discovered that we had a choice…

“Get busy living or get busy dying.”

Let me explain…
Dad and Mom met in high school. Within a few days, they were inseparable. They were best friends first. That was a time when it was unusual for boys and girls to have that kind of relationship.

get busy living

Dad, Mom, and Jason years ago.

Dad was a tough guy, a boxer. Mom was also an athlete, a track star. They did everything together. She helped him train. He ran with her in the mornings. They spoke late into the night on the phone. Within a year, they had fallen in love.

After high school, they were engaged. Married. I was born. Our family from that point on as close as a family could be. Jokes and teasing were the norm; so were morning and bedtime hugs. Mom and Dad — two crazy lovebirds, an inseparable team.

So when mom died suddenly in 2011 — a heart attack with no warning — I was devastated. But for Dad the pain was unbearable. He plunged into an abyss. He lived in void. Mom was his life. He was lost. READ MORE