Dad's 100th Birthday

                Born May 23, 1912, Dad would have been 100 years old today had he lived. That he would have been 100 is easy for me to remember. He was born six weeks after the Titanic sank and this is the 100^th anniversary of that notorious event. And the date of May 23^rd is easy to remember as well. Mom was born March 23. Brother Loy and brother-in-law Dave were born April 23^rd. Dad’s birthday is the 23^rd of the next month - May.

                That he has been gone 30 years is hard to believe but easy to remember. Andy turned 30 this year. Andy was born 12 days before Dad died – the day after Loy and Dave’s birthday. The little fellow and his granddad never met one another. What a pity that is.

                While I’ve often mentioned Mom lately due to her fight with cancer, I’ve not written about Dad in a while. He’s certainly not forgotten. In fact, I think about him every day. I have a picture of Mom and Dad on the table in my office that I face as I sit at my desk. I’m guessing it’s circa 1957 or 1958 and reminds me of them from my childhood perspective. I had a great childhood. A substantial number of my memories of Dad revolve around his teaching me to hunt and fish.

                “Good hunting begins with good conservation,” he’d say. Dad practiced good conservation techniques throughout his life. “If you’re not going to eat it, don’t kill it,” was the corollary to his conservation mantra.

                He drilled safety in the field and on the water into the psyche of my brothers and me. “There is no substitute for safety. No shortcuts. Not now. Not ever,” Dad would preach.

                “That’s why they call it hunting – not killing,” was his universal refrain when I complained about an unsuccessful hunt. “Hunting’s like courting,” he'd say, “90 percent of the thrill is in the chase!”

                I imagine it’s rather common to routinely reminisce about a parent who’s passed on. Remarkable is how intense some of those memories have been for me in the past few years.

While involved in a tense campaign for the Tennessee Senate four years ago, it seemed Dad was ever-present – especially during the dark, difficult days. All those clichés of his that I came to loathe as a teenager, I kept hearing over and over again in my mind. I found myself repeating them aloud on the campaign trail, i.e. “There’s a reason God gave you two ears and just one mouth” or “There’s always going to be someone smarter; just make darn sure they don’t out work you” or “Hard work makes up for a lot of other deficiencies.”

Dad’s presence on the campaign trail prompted my media consultant to base my first television commercial during that Senate campaign on Dad’s wisdom. Our campaign strategy to unseat a three-term incumbent was to knock on doors for six months and then get up on TV in mid-September and stay up until Election Day.

The strategy and particularly the commercial worked. While my reception on folk’s doorsteps was cordial before the TV campaign began, the reception after “My Dad” began airing was powerful. People recognized me before I ever got to their door. Many greeted me on their sidewalk or on the street before I could ever get to their doorstep. I heard over-and-over again “I love your commercial” or “Your dad was a smart man!” I’ve always known, deep within the recesses of my heart, Dad won that campaign for me.

Dad has won many a campaign for me over all these years and especially since he’s been gone. Life’s full of campaigns. I was and am so very blessed to have had a father whose influence upon me has transcended his death and molded me into the person I am. I miss his physical presence but he is with me always.

Happy Birthday, Daddy!