I’m One Of The Lucky Ones – My Dad Is My Hero

While I am not one who usually writes about personal feelings and experiences, the current events of my family require me to shout from the highest mountain tops about a man I call my dad.

Every man has a story about a hero in their lives who has made a great difference in how they prosecute adulthood. In my case, that person is my dad, Steve. He made such a difference in my life, I would be remiss if I didn’t share it with the world.

As far back as I can remember, my dad has been my hero. In fact, my youngest memories are of him sailing into port in Norfolk, VA, where his ship, The USS LaSalle; an LPD-3/AGF-3 Class US Navy ship had its home port. I remember that massive gray 522 foot long beast steaming into port, its horn blowing and throngs of family members there, like us, waving flags and cheering their arrival home after nine or so months at sea. Vietnam was raging back then. Wartime is an interesting time in a military town. Ours was a tight knit community and there were lots of friends to support us and the other families. But, there was nothing quite like having my dad there when LaSalle was in port. I remember the pride I felt when my mom put my big brother Tim and I in our sailor suits and we felt like big Navy men ourselves. Dad was an officer on the LaSalle, so we were treated like we were officers too. We felt very special indeed. But the best I felt for the first five or so years of my life, was when my dad was home and throwing a baseball in the back yard of our little apartment in Virginia Beach, a stone’s throw from the back gate of Oceana NAS.

Every time an F-4 Phantom, A-4 Skyhawk, A-6 Intruder, or any of the other magnificently loud fighters of that era would fly over, I would say to whomever was around, “those are Navy fighters-my dad is in the Navy!” The pride of being able to tell people my dad was serving our country and keeping us all safe was something I was quite glad to share with anyone who would listen. It was a busy time because of Vietnam. Jets night and day, and long cruises at sea for my dad were constant, so when he was ordered to the Pentagon, we all breathed a sigh of relief. Many of our friends were aviators, and many had served in Vietnam. We heard stories of family friends being shot down, and of course it was on the news constantly. I watched Vietnam on television, on our black and white Zenith television, and prayed constantly that my dad wasn’t steaming out of port to go there next.

When the Navy sent us to Washington DC, he finished his career in the Armed Forces. And having had years in Intelligence, he was recruited by the FBI to continue on that same path. While he doesn’t talk much about his service in the bureau, I have a pretty good understanding of his activities there, the level of danger under which he worked, and some of the bigger cases he worked. Lets just say he was in the heavy duty stuff on many occasions. He always laughed about it-and he still does. His stories are riveting. He is always humble about it though. That’s my dad-humble to the core. He knows he’s tough. He knows he’s brave. But it was all in service to his country. To him, it was a job, albeit a job that was very important-as important as his Naval career.

It was during his DC assignment with the Bureau, that I came home asking to take horseback riding lessons. A bunch of my friends were doing it-and I loved animals (still do). My dad told me to get a job and pay for it myself. I was 10 ½ years old-and I was pissed! I couldn’t work. But he knew I would figure it out. Within days, I was mucking stalls at the very stable I wanted to ride at, in return for riding lessons. The lessons wouldn’t start for nearly six months, but by that time, every horse in the stable knew and trusted me. Within another six months, I was jumping five foot gates. That work ethic has stayed with me to this day-and even with this horrible disease destroying my joints, I work my ass off-all because my dad taught me the value of a hard day’s work.

The self worth he taught me back then is what I strive to teach my sons. I have strove for eleven years to teach my sons what my dad taught me, and what he continues to reinforce today. I am one of the lucky ones. My dad stuck around. He took raising me and my siblings very seriously. He was robbed of much of our childhood, due to the rigors of his career-a selfless one at that. While I haven’t been as selfless, choosing to focus more on the private sector and wealth building, I have his work ethic. I couldn’t imagine being any other way. My wife has the same issues with my long hours as my mom did with my dad’s, but in the end, it is worth it.

My sons are learning what my dad taught me. They are learning that self reliance is the most important thing one can do for one’s self. They are learning that living within one’s means is their duty to themselves and future generations. And they are learning that living a “godly” life, whereby one respects other people, creatures, the laws of our land, and of the Ten Commandments is the only way to be truly happy.

Today, my dad is retired, having worked for the United States House of Representatives investigating budget appropriations for Defense and Intel spending to close out his career, after a successful run in private industry. A lifetime of serving his country, dodging bullets, torpedoes, and whatever else was flung his way- for the sake of his country, and all to feed his family, is the centerpiece of my dad’s story.

He is my hero, because he did what was necessary. And while I know it had to hurt a great deal missing baseball games, plays, band concerts, and soccer games, he knew all along that I was okay with it. I was okay with it, because he taught me at a young age that sometimes we will have to do things in our lives that are not going to be our favorites, but are important enough to be our focus. We will do things that many people aren’t willing to do, because we feel it is our duty. We will do them without being thanked, and at great personal cost, but in the end they will be worth it.

I live by that same code of ethics. I do miss important times in my kids’ lives here and there, but in the long run, it is for the good of my family. I know my dad has regrets, hell we all do. But I also know that heroes are heroes because they do what they feel they were called on to do by a higher power. And I know he can look at me as one of his greatest successes. I just hope I can live up to the fine example he set for me. And, as he starts the battle of his life against cancer, I hope he knows I am ready to step up and be a hero now, because I had the finest teacher a man could ever wish to have.