Remembering My Father

I would like to remember my father, Alexander Rae Baldwin, Jr. Born October 26th, 1927 in Brooklyn. NY. Died April 15th, 1983 after a battle with cancer.

A graduate of Boys High School in Brooklyn and Syracuse University, he served in the United States Marine Corps and was an expert marksman in riflery. He was honorably discharged for medical reasons after being shot, accidentally, during rifle instruction on Parris Island.

He returned to Syracuse University to attend law school, but dropped out and moved to Massapequa, Long Island, to begin his 28 year career as a public school teacher.

My dad taught "social studies," as they were referred to back then. History, economics, constitutional law, contemporary problems. My father taught them all. He was a much admired teacher during those years. So much so that, twice, the editors of the school yearbook dedicated their editions to him, a tribute normally reserved for faculty that had either died or retired. He coached football at the school. Led a cub scout troop. Coached Little League. And was coach of the Massapequa High School rifle team, which went to the New York State Public High School Athletic Association state riflery championship twice during his career. That honor was nearly always the reserve of upstate, and therefore more rural, schools. For a "downstate" school to win was considered impossible. My father's team won both times.

Years later, doctors informed me that the inhalation of lead dust from working in an unventilated rifle range may have contributed significantly to his death. On Parris Island in 1945, a bullet would not kill him. But bullets eventually did, at the age of 55, from lymph cancer that spread through his body.

As a father, he was tough and uncompromising. With six children, four of them boys, and little extra cash with which to spoil or bribe them, he implemented the "Fear Program." My brothers and I knew that any missteps of ours carried inevitable consequences. But he was more selfless and thoughtful than anyone I have known throughout my life. When my brother Daniel and I found out that local athletic champion Jimmy Luchsinger was teaching tennis at the nearby Marjorie Post Park, we sulked that we could never get the rackets we needed to participate. A day or two later, my dad came home from work and unwrapped two rackets, with the old wooden frames. He handed us the rackets and said, "If you miss one lesson, I'll be very upset with you."

As he did nearly every day I knew him, he switched on Huntley and Brinkley, lit his pipe and read the New York Times and Newsday, cover to cover. As he lay on the couch, I can remember the bottoms of his shoes with holes in them the size of half dollars. The man who would not resole his shoes had given us the rackets. That was my dad.

When he died, a part of me died as well. So many times in my life I could have used his advice. His wake at the local funeral home was mobbed with people. His funeral at our church in Amityville was overwhelming. In the intervening couple of years, I would ride the Long Island Rail Road and, on more than one occasion someone would say, "I had your dad as a teacher and he was a great man." Once in a while one would ask, "How is your dad?" and when I informed them that he had passed, some cried right there on the train.

My own experiences with fatherhood have been...complicated. But I always remember the words of my dad. "Fatherhood is a race between two people," he would say, "where the man always wins the bronze."

For all the fathers out there, biological, step or adoptive; gay or straight; divorced, single or married; rich, poor, unemployed, overworked, good at the barbecue, cuts his own lawn, spoils his kids, wishes he could: Happy Fathers Day. The one day you are awarded the gold.

Okay, the silver.

Comments

[goldstar2000]

I really enjoyed reading this story....t­hanks! My Papa passed away 4 yrs ago and reading this made a tough day a little better... you deserve gold.... ok ok silver ;)

[brianmathewkowalchuk]

My Dad passed last year. That's okay. I told him I loved him many times before he left for a better place. Complicated man. Not a great father, but, we had some really good moments. We had the same sense of humor, pretty dry. He loved to fish, but, never caught one. NEVER. Well, actually, he did catch one, but, it jumped out of his hands and back into the water when he was taking it off the hook. Smallest fish I've ever seen on a hook in my life. He was so excited and pleased when he got it in the row boat. You should have seen the look on his face after the fish jumped back into the water. Priceless. It still makes me laugh and that was 30 years ago. Happy Father's Day, pop. I'm writing a screenplay to honor your better side, and good fathers, and Father's Day. A family comedy. And, I'll find a way to include a scene with a barbeque, don't worry. www.brianmathewkowalchuk.blogspot.com

[Juanon]

Well said, and much appreciated, Mr. Baldwin.

Happy Father's Day to you too--I suspect you do better than the Bronze on most days.

[Highlyirritable]

That was lovely, Alec, and a beautiful tribute to your father. It's funny how we often don't recall until we are adults the sacrifices, both big and small, that our parents made for us. I'll bet you never play tennis, let alone see a racquet, without thinking of your father.

As you said, fatherhood (parenthood for that matter) is a difficult relationship to navigate, and one I hope to direct for my own children as well as your father appeared to have done for you and your siblings.

Jeni
http://highlyirritable.wordpress.com

[liveinhope23]

I would like to remember my father also.
We never really got along and had a pretty contentious relationship when I was growing up. We fought often and had long periods of non-communication. We just never seemed to be in sync.
The two areas where we were sympatico were music and humor. We both loved the Beatles and must have watched the original "The Producers" together a hundred times - laughing out loud.
Once, when we hadn't spoken for about five years, we arranged to meet at a pub for a beer - to talk and see if we could reconcile.
He was always pretty much a sweatshirt kind of guy, but that night, he showed up to meet me wearing a jacket and tie.
It still makes me cry to think about it.
Happy Father's Day

[dengal]

I lost my dad 25 years ago, much too young.
I miss him more with time, not less as memories fade a little
I long to hear his infectious laugh.
He played pranks
He was the guy every neighbor called for help.
He worked beyond measure
He did the best he could and tho not perfect, he was my hero

I miss and love you dad

[Guggenheim]

Very nice sentiments, Alex. Thanks on behalf of another dad (me) with fond memories and thanks for his father. Happy Father's Day to you as well.

[julieJgoldengay]

Ya Know,...My Dad, did the Best, he Could. Thanks Pop.

[PierreLeClerke]

Alec,

Thanks, likewise to you.

None of us are perfect, making the effort with love, is what will matter most in the end.

Most of us humans understand frustration well.

All the best

Pierre

[goodgravy]

my dad died 18 months ago. my heart aches today. love your dads while you still have the chance. once they're gone there's a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

[educated]

Plain & simple, straight from the heart writing.
To be father is the outcome of raging hormones, It take to be a Man to be Parent.
I have all sweet memories about my Dad and that "Sweet Bastard" lived 98.
He lost his father at age of 5, grew up in dire poverty. He was relentless hard worker. Eventually Self made successful businessman. He was my hero. He laughed, did not ashamed to cry, sometime used red eyed fury, taught the value of democracy, Compassion & social wisdom.
He never bothered anyone in his last 25 years of retirement.
MY DAD !!!!!
My kids loves me.

[rckayla]

Beautiful tribute to your dad, Alec. Happy Father's Day to you!!! I know what it's like to miss our fathers... both my own dad and my stepdad passed away within two months of each other in 2005, and I always knew and felt the love they both had for me even when we had differences of opinions lol. And I'm proud to say I had two dads whom I still miss a lot but know will live on forever more in my heart, as your's does. Today is the fourth Father's Day without my two dads and its still a rough day for me as I'm sure it is for everyone who's lost their fathers.

[ImBarbara]

Thanks for the great story. Happy Father's Day, Alec.

[findingmuse]

I always tell people my dad was like this: if you went out into -45 degree weather, in a blizzard, without your coat? He'd scream at you for many minutes about how ridiculous you were for not putting on a coat...and then he'd give you the one off of his back. Your dad sounds a lot like mine.

And as a daughter who also had a...compli­cated relationship with her dad, I do know that no matter what the complications are from or how very complicated they may be, the deep love and trust I had for my dad was always there. I didn't always like him, but I always always loved and respected him. He was a multi-layered human being with a lot of ghosts, but he had a good heart and the love was real. He died in Feb. 2001 of congestive heart failure/diabetes, and I miss him every day.

I love reading tributes other people write to their dads. It may be because I really, really wish my dad was still here. Yours was wonderful--thank you for sharing. Happy Father's Day! :)

[joyf1]

Alec, I remember your father well. As a Massapequa HS graduate, class of '66, I knew your father. Everyone at Massapequa High School knew your father and respected him, probably the most of any teacher. And being that the social studies department alone contained 20 teachers, your father garnering the respect he did was certainly an accomplishment. After a dozen moves during my life, I still have a copy of my Sachem. Your father's picture and his sentiments remain one of my fondest memories of my high school days. He was a great man with a great family.