DAD
Like millions of other boys growing up, my dad was (and is) my hero. When I was a young boy, I used to wake up early with my dad before he went to work and ask him to wave at me through the front door window every morning as he pulled out of the driveway.
I was so obsessed with my dad that during the summer months we’d be outside playing, and my next- door neighbors would tease me by saying “Cody, your dad’s home!” and I would excitedly turn my head and see he wasn’t yet while they laughed. My father is the quintessence of a good man.
Dad is retired now, but he was a lifelong salesperson. He was born to be a salesperson. Extremely friendly, easy going, very handsome, intelligent, hard working, and more than anything else, a man of integrity. Dads first sales job was managing Musicland in Mundelein, IL. Some of his clients were the likes of Walter Payton and Dan Hampton of the Chicago Bears. As I grew a little older and after we moved back to South Dakota, he began working for electronic and appliance companies, and he would have to go on the road as a client/contract salesperson. I recall in my middle and early high school years he had to be gone overnight on a weekly basis. The walls of his home office were stacked with awards and each year my parents went on a nice tropical vacation because he would win the company’s top sales contests.
Dad always worked so hard. Up every single morning, jumping in the shower, pouring a cup of coffee down his throat as he strapped on the suit and tie to venture out into the rat race grind. He never missed a day and never, ever complained. Even on those Saturdays, after a long arduous work week, when he had to strap on the suit and tie to go work the “home shows” at our local arena he embraced the grind. Dad worked on total commission his entire career. All health, eye, and vision care needs were paid out of pocket as he put four kids through catholic schools, and whatever the most golden, perfect credit score is, I promise you he holds it.
I am so grateful for my dad. When I was a boy, he would take me on hunting and fishing trips. Even on Sundays when he and my mom had not gotten to spend a whole lot of time together, he would be with me, out of town hunting or fishing. Dad even had to step in as head coach of my baseball team for an entire season because something unexpected happened to the original coach.
Dad was a good athlete and a star baseball player. He could hit and play anywhere on the field, but he was a standout pitcher. In fact, within the amateur ranks in the late 60’s he was as good as anyone in the state.
He was one of the younger players on his team, and his older brother, Jim (Rocky) was the catcher. In fact there was one year when Jim would only agree to play for the local team if they accepted his younger brother, and of course little did they know this younger brother would be dominating hitters!
My dad was a good enough pitcher that he tried out for the Cincinnati Reds back when one of their minor league teams were close by. Dad could play an excellent shortstop as well, and hit with the big boys, but again, pitching was what he really loved to do.
That all changed, however, shortly after he graduated from high school. About a week before he was scheduled to travel to Florida to try out for the Kansas City Royals (their spring training facility at that time) he had an accident that would forever change the trajectory of his life. While working at the local meat locker/diner his pitching hand somehow got caught in the thick metal cooler door as it slammed shut. His fingers were ruined. He couldn’t even hold a ball, much less throw. He was devastated. Ultimately, he stayed home and married my mother and the rest, as they say, is history.
So many times, over the years dad has been there for me. Always there to answer the phone. Coming into town at odd hours of the night to try and rescue me in the past when I was out destroying myself. Or giving me a brand-new washer and dryer (and other appliances!), and paying for my son’s offseason baseball training program, and many many other ways…Dad is about the most solid, stand-up, respectable man that I have ever known. The epitome of what a man should be. I only wish that I were more like him.
I love you, dad. Thank you for always being there. But most of all, thank you for being You.
Love,
Cody
Dad looks like a stud, bro. My wife has family in the Watertown area so I remember driving through Sioux Falls and some of those towns in the news articles. Looks like you had a privileged upbringing. Don’t mean that in a bad way just seems so.
Good content tho, bro
Thanks for reading! I’m impressed you spotted those small towns! Yes, you could certainly say that I had privilege growing up, and I am grateful for many things and memories. HOWEVER..I have also experienced many years of pain. Here’s what comes to mind; I was about to be evicted from my apartment, just got another DWI, lost my job because of co-worker relations, and was suicidal. A sweet, elderly retired neighbor found me passed out in my old military uniform with a knife in my hand. He took me to the local VA hospital and I was admitted for major depression. I had nowhere to go and was far beyond anyone’s help. A few months later someone gave me a gym membership to the local community center where I ended up staying for a few months. It was there that I discovered how well I respond to health and fitness, particularly intense weight training and cardiovascular exercise. If not for that and those people, I doubt that I would still be here today.
Love,
SBF