Happy Birthday. Dad!

 

Below is my dad's high school graduation photo. He was an honor grad and holder of class medals in English and debate. The year was 1925. He was seventeen. My dad was a mill town boy with high ambitions beyond the mountains of western Maryland but he had the security of a well-paying full-time job waiting for him after graduation in the midst of the Roaring Twenties. That job won out and he never pursued the college degree he wanted. Nevertheless he was successful, building on his strong Christian faith, steady employment, solid marriage, and remarkable work ethic.

1925

When I look at this picture I am reminded that he only had four "good" years before the Great Depression and World War II brought him and the country he loved into sixteen years of hard times. What I don't see are his weakened legs and slight limp caused by polio when he was a young boy. Through it all he survived as a member of the "Greatest Generation" and saw his nation prosper.

One hundred and sixteen years have passed since his birth on this day in 1907. That's a long time and one indication of why my value programming is different from that of most people my age. In short, I was raised by parents from the Roaring Twenties and the Jazz Age while the majority of my classmates, friends, and many colleagues had parents come of age in the 1930's and early '40's. The often vast difference in attitudes, opinions and beliefs borne out of such a circumstance brings both opportunity and challenge in the real world for those born somewhat "out of synch" with their peers.

My children never knew my dad - he's been gone for over forty years - but I think they know him well. I've done my best to teach them who he was and honor him by carrying on his many traditions. How fortunate I was to have him as a beacon in my life. He was a great and careful teacher and, though we had our differences, a constant and trusted friend. Most of all he was my loving dad. I thank him every day,  will love him forever, and look forward to seeing him again.

4th Grade class photo, 1917-18

A Father's Birthday

Below is a photo of my dad at seventeen. He was a high school honor graduate and holder of class medals in English and debate. The year was 1925. He was a mill town boy with high ambitions beyond the mountains of western Maryland but he had the security of a well-paying full-time job waiting for him after graduation in the midst of the Roaring Twenties. That job won out and he never pursued the college degree he wanted. Nevertheless he was successful, building on his strong Christian faith, steady employment, solid marriage, and remarkable work ethic.

When I look at this picture I am reminded that he only had four "good" years before the Great Depression and World War II brought him and the country he loved into sixteen years of hard times. What I don't see are his weakened legs and slight limp caused by polio when he was a young boy. Through it all he survived as a member of the "Greatest Generation" and saw his nation prosper.

One hundred and fifteen years have passed since the birth of my father on this day in 1907. That's a long time and one indication of why my value programming is different from that of most people my age. In short, I was raised by parents from the Roaring Twenties and the Jazz Age while the majority of my classmates, friends, and many colleagues had parents come of age in the 1930's and early '40's. The often vast difference in attitudes, opinions and beliefs borne out of such a circumstance brings both opportunity and challenge in the real world for those born somewhat "out of synch" with their peers.

My children never knew my dad - he's been gone for over forty years - but I think they know him well. I've done my best to teach them who he was and honor him by carrying on his many traditions. How fortunate I was to have him as a beacon in my life. He was a great and careful teacher and, though we had our differences, a constant and trusted friend. Most of all he was my loving dad. I thank him every day and will love him forever.

Celebrating My Dad

 

Below is a photo of my dad at seventeen, a high school honor graduate and holder of his class medals in English and debate. The year was 1925. He was a mill town boy with high ambitions and the offer of a good-paying full-time job straight out of high school and into the midst of the Roaring Twenties. By taking that job, he never got the college degree he wanted but he was successful, building on his strong faith, a solid marriage, and a remarkable work ethic.

It has been 114 years since the birth of my father on this day in 1907. He was almost 40 when I arrived. And I was well into my 30's when my children arrived.  I often recall what it was like being raised by parents value programmed by the Roaring Twenties and the Jazz Age while most of my classmates, friends, and colleagues had parents come of age during the last years of the Great Depression and World War II. Today I ponder what my children think of their Boomer dad and his many stories of growing up in the 1950's and 1960's.

They never met my dad - he's been gone for over 40 years - but I think they know him well. I've done my best to teach them who he was and honor him by carrying on his many traditions along with those established by their mother and L. How fortunate I was to have him as a beacon in my life. He was a great and careful teacher and counselor, and though we had our differences, a constant and trusted friend. Most of all he was my loving dad. I thank him every day and will love him forever. 

Happy birthday, Dad! 

J. William's Birthday

This is my dad at seventeen. He was a high school honor graduate and holder of class medals in English and debate. The year was 1925. He was a mill town boy with high ambitions beyond the mountains of western Maryland but he had the security of a good-paying full-time job waiting for him after graduation in the midst of the Roaring Twenties. That job won out and he never pursued the college degree he wanted. Nevertheless he was successful, building on his steady employment, strong faith, a solid marriage, and a remarkable work ethic.

When I look at this picture I am reminded that he only had four "good" years before the Great Depression and World War II brought him and the country he loved into sixteen years of hard times. What I don't see are his weakened legs and slight limp caused by polio when he was a young boy. Through it all he survived as a member of the "Greatest Generation" and saw his nation prosper.

One hundred and thirteen years have passed since the birth of my father on this day in 1907. That's a long time and one indication of why my value programming is different from that of most people my age. In short, I was raised by parents from the Roaring Twenties and the Jazz Age while the majority of my classmates, friends, and colleagues had parents come of age in the 1930's and early '40's. The often vast difference in attitudes, opinions and beliefs borne out of such a circumstance bring both opportunity and challenge in the real world for those born somewhat "out of synch" with their peers.

My children never knew my dad - he's been gone almost forty years - but I think they know him well. I've done my best to teach them who he was and honor him by carrying on his many traditions. How fortunate I was to have him as a beacon in my life. He was a great and careful teacher and, though we had our differences, a constant and trusted friend. Most of all he was my loving dad. I thank him every day and will love him forever.

A Birthday For Dad

This is my dad at seventeen, a high school honor graduate and holder of his class medals in English and debate. The year was 1925. He was a mill town boy with high ambitions tempered by the security of a good-paying full-time job straight out of high school and into the midst of the Roaring Twenties. He never got the college degree he wanted but he was successful, building on his strong faith, a solid marriage, and a remarkable work ethic.

When I look at this picture I am reminded that he only had four "good" years before the Great Depression and World War II brought him and the country he loved into sixteen years of hard times. Through it all he survived as a member of the "Greatest Generation" and saw his nation prosper.

One hundred and twelve years have passed since the birth of my father on this day in 1907. That's a long time and one indication of why my value programming is different from that of most people my age. In short, I was raised by parents from the Roaring Twenties and the Jazz Age while the majority of my classmates, friends, and colleagues had parents come of age in the 1930's and early '40's. The often vast difference in attitudes, opinions and beliefs borne out of such a circumstance bring both opportunity and challenge in the real world for those born somewhat "out of synch" with their peers. 

My children never knew my dad - he's been gone almost forty years - but I think they know him well. I've done my best to teach them who he was and honor him by carrying on his many traditions. How fortunate I was to have him as a beacon in my life. He was a great and careful teacher and, though we had our differences, a constant and trusted friend. Most of all he was my loving dad. I thank him every day and will love him forever.

My Father's Birthday

It has been 111 years since the birth of my father on this day in 1907. That's a long time and one indication of why my value programming is different from that of most of my peers. In short, I was raised by parents from the Roaring Twenties and the Jazz Age while my classmates, friends, and colleagues had parents come of age during the Great Depression. Attitudes, opinions and beliefs borne out of such a circumstance bring both opportunity and challenge in the real world for those born somewhat "out of synch."

This is my dad at seventeen, a high school honor graduate and holder of his class medals in English and debate. The year was 1925. He was a mill town boy with high ambitions tempered by the security of a good-paying full-time job straight out of high school and into the midst of the Roaring Twenties. He never got the college degree he wanted but he was successful, building on his strong faith, a solid marriage, and a remarkable work ethic.

When I look at this picture I am reminded that he only had four "good" years before the Great Depression and World War II brought him and the country he loved into sixteen years of hard times. Through it all he survived as a member of the "Greatest Generation" and saw his nation prosper.

My children never knew him - he's been gone for over 35 years - but I think they know him well. I've done my best to teach them who he was and honor him by carrying on his many traditions. How fortunate I was to have him as a beacon in my life. He was a great and careful teacher and, though we had our differences, a constant and trusted friend. Most of all he was my loving dad. I thank him every day and will love him forever.


Happy birthday, Dad!

Defining Poverty

For most Americans, poverty is perhaps best defined through the lens of Dorthea Lange as she photographed the forgotten men, women, and children of the Great Depression of the 1930s. Poverty is still with us in every part of the nation, but we have come a long way from a time when there was no federal program for those in need. One of the outcomes of that program has been the distortion of the definition of what it means to be poor. John Hinderaker explores the subject in his post at Power Line.

OTR's sons know poverty firsthand through their travel and work in north Africa, the Middle East and central Asia. They have little patience with those who claim that poor Americans number in the tens of millions or that the republic--and its economic system-- is an oppressive master.

Footnote: The woman in Lange's photograph, Migrant Mother, is Florence Owens Thompson. You can read more about her and see other photographs from the series here in a Wikipedia entry.

The Share-Our-Wealth Society - A Reprise?

Why weep or slumber America

Land of brave and true
With castles and clothing and food for all
All belongs to you

Ev'ry man a king ev'ry man a king
For you can be a millionaire
But there's something belonging to others
There's enough for all people to share
When it's sunny June and December too
Or in the winter time or spring
They'll be peace without end
Ev'ry neighbor a friend
With ev'ry man a king

--words by Huey Long, The Kingfish

A few weeks ago, I began thinking about the curious parallels between our President-elect Obama and The Kingfish. It's been more than 75 years since The Kingfish roared to prominence in Lousiana politics. I'd say he's never mentioned in high school history classes these days, and only an afterthought in college. But he is significant, in terms of his political strategy, charisma, and social philosophy given the near-flawless Obama campaign. Henry P. Wickham, Jr. in this American Thinker article, discusses the point in a most thought provoking way. None of us can predict the future, but we have no excuse for not shaping potential outcomes based on learning from the past. Perhaps that is why even President Franklin Roosevelt came to fear The Kingfish and his Share-Our-Wealth Society.

What Did You Do In The Great Depression?

A huge chunk of my 401k evaporated last week while I endured the roller coaster stock market along with millions of other happy retirees. Now I'm haunted by the growing awareness that my country could be managed by a messianic Marxist come January. These thoughts merged yesterday evening into several games of "Cat Bowling." My highest score was 158. Given that it's cool and damp, my arthritis is kicking in a bit, so my top score seems quite acceptable. After all, it only took eight games to reach it. By then, my thoughts had wandered elsewhere, including into a deep exploration of some political blogs. That led to an examination of some historic ups and downs in the nation's economy. For me, it means I end up somewhere in the Great Depression. That period is interesting for another reason: the marriage that produced me - in 1946 - took place in 1933, about the time that "hope and change" entered the White House in the form of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. My parents were never Roosevelt fans. They had to cope with hard times and political uncertainties, but I don't think "Cat Bowling" was an alternative.

Although my parents have long departed this world, I can still hear them talking about two of their favorite things: movies and dancing. I'm sure they weren't alone as millions who came of age in the 20s and 30s were value programmed, in part, by silver screens and dance bands found across America. So what did Mom and Dad do in 1933 to cope with the national uncertainties swirling around them? They probably saw this pre-code classic with its girls, airplanes, and a wedding:



Earlier in the same film, Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire paired up on the dance floor for the first time. Watch them in this clip, and take a second, closer look, at those girls on the airplanes.



So much for "Cat Bowling." They had a much better time.