Father’s Day

My father was complex (in the best sense of the word).  Any attempt to describe him, merely describes a facet of his character. That said, one of the traits of my father that I have grown to appreciate was his willingness and ability to force me to grow, even at the expense of my feelings towards him at the time. I remember many occasions when I resented his interference in my life, like when he transferred me to a new school against my wishes. When he sensed complacency on my part, he pushed me (often kicking and screaming) out of my comfort zone into larger fields where I was free to grow.

I found similar qualities in several of my friends’ fathers. In particular, Mr. Cherry comes to mind. He taught speech and acting at my high school and was my best friend’s father. He took a special interest in me, despite the fact that I had no interest in acting, preferring physics and math. At times I actually hated Mr. Cherry, usually as I was throwing up, back stage, before being pushed out in front of an audience. I seldom knew my lines and stage-fright robbed my memory on those occasions when I did.

One time he drove me off campus to give a presentation on the dangers of smoking tobacco. It was 1978 and I was the key note speaker at the Henderson Lions Club. As I looked around the hall, I saw forty or more old men, most of them smoking cigars. As I started my talk on the evils of tobacco, I glimpsed Mr. Cherry in the back of the hall, looking insufferably pleased with himself.

Now I make my living as a teacher and public speaker, and I know that this would never have come to pass without Mr. Cherry’s special brand of ‘tough love’.