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

[Delphine]

Alec, my dad was born the year before yours. Something about that generation - they didn't declare their love for us, no showers of affection, but the little things they did were so special - I never doubted my dad loved me. He didn't need to say it.

He had his flaws (he was a hardcore fan of . . . Nixon) and it's not like we were close in any open sort of way, (I think having a daughter after a couple of sons was a little daunting for him) but I miss him.

Your father taught you a valuable lesson. You don't have to be perfect to be a fantastic dad. We feel and remember the love above everything else.

Happy Father's Day, Alec.

[danielmcvicar]

Thanks Alec for the memories of your father. You remind me how fortunate I am to spend this weekend with my dad. Happy Father's Day.

[Raul Garcia]

I'm sure for many this day can stir up a whirlwind of mixed emotions, feelings rarely, sometimes never expressed; based on our expectations of what a Father should be.

It's been 10 years since my Father passed and 20 years since we made amends, and on this day I give thanks knowing I have the power and the wisdom to let bygones be bygones, and to remember the good times, simply by choosing to do so.

[RustNeverSleeps]

Sounds like you miss your dad very much Alec. He must of been a very good father. Thanks for the post.

[RodgerLodger]

So what did you carry on?

[lifeisstrange]

Great post Alec. You've always made me laugh, on Saturday Night Live and other places. But this time you brought tears to my eyes. You don't take yourself too seriously and seem like a great guy.

[seattle music]

I am always so jealous of people who had a good father.

If your father was a decent, loving person then you are blessed with a treasure beyond any price.

Happy Father's Day to your father, and may God be merciful and forgive mine.

[PierreLeClerke]

Remember, unforgiving is a chain that holds at both ends. I now it can be the hardest thing to do, but for your own heath and peace, forgive him!

[MikeRdg]

Forgiving means different things to different people. Sometimes, we have to be careful using the term. For some forgiving means they must condone, brush away what an individual has done, for others it meaning not hating the person, but not approving of their actions...­..... it can mean all kinds of things.

Forgiveness at the wrong stage of healing can damage the individual --- it is like a the stages of grief --- we must pass through the hurt, pass through the pain, pass through the anger { and being angry is part of recognizing what the individual did was wrong }, and cross into healing ourselves, reconstructing ourselves. There may be some act so heinous it is o.k. of one never forgives, but moves forward in their lives.

Forgiveness does not mean we must accept the actions of the person, as if it never happened -- we can do this if we choose --- but means rebuilding. And we don't owe someone forgiveness, some need to earn it -- things given too freely at times is not valued by those of more callous nature.

We may need to accept a past, acknowledge, and put into prospective.

the pressure of having to forgive at the wrong stage, can be an added burden to an individual who is in the process of healing.

[Agentlady007]

Someday you'll give yourself the Gold. Best wishes and Happy Fathers Day Alec. Thanks for sharing your story. Your father sounded great. You seem just like him. It's probably just what he wanted for you.

[weebils]

I like Alec Baldwin but their being from Long island explains plenty. Many in this area of the country think something is in the LI water. I even remember a newspaper with a headline asking if something was in the Long Island water to make them so crazy. That says a lot coming from a New York paper.

[longislandlol]

Long Island's best-- the Baldwins!

[longislandlol]

Long Island dads sacrificed--I am born and raised here- my dad could have stayed in Brooklyn with mom but moved to Long Island "for the kids sake" - toiled in the city- rode the LIRR- educated us- at a sacrifice to himself- selfless LOng Island dads-- today we send up thousands of prayers to the thousands who wanted so little and gave their all- to give us Long Island kids-- " a better life."

[Jfchrissie]

Beloved Alec, Your tribute to your father is very touching and meaningful. Your sentiments are very beautiful. He sounds like a wonderful, selfless gentleman. He sounds like "the kind of man it would have been nice to know." He sounds "Cool." He sounds "alot like you." You are a wonderful reflection of your father. You have accomplished so many, many things in the acting and entertainment field in films, theatre, and movies. You are such a Marvelous Success in all you do! You do so,so very much for worthy charities and excellent causes. You have a beautiful daughter, Ireland Ellisse, growing up from the love and faith you've instilled in her. You are an inspiration to her and to myself, and to so many people. I look up to all the admirable things you do to help so many people. I know you are a very kind, generous gentleman. My own father will be dead 40 years in 2010. Forty years seems so long ago. I still remember my father. I send you much love and kindest wishes for a Happy Father's Day. You are a Sweetheart and a Fantastic Actor. Peace and Luv, Jo

[Bytor]

I'm with you Alex.I especially relate to you saying "When he died, a part of me died as well. So many times in my life I could have used his advice."

[LateBoomer2]

I feel the same. We never quite appreciate it when it's there, do we? LOL.... Dad was obsessed with politics and the news. What I wouldn't have given to discuss any of the stories of the last few years with him, Monica-gate, Bush's "selection," the Iraq war, now the Iran crisis. My dad was always "politically correct" but that was because he was always "actually correct," LOL. I don't think I ever heard him express a silly, prejudiced, or unfair statement about anyone or anything. Although sometimes he got so mad at the certain horrible people (like murderers, tyrants, etc.) that he said they should be "boiled in oil." Other than that excess, my Dad always came down on the right side of every issue I ever knew him to discuss. Sometimes that was TOO much, I wished I could catch him out in a wrong opinion. Never happened. :)

[3rdCitizen]

My dad also came out of WWII a disabled vet -- TB he contracted in the navy left him with only half a lung. In fragile health for the rest of his life, he was a work-a-holic (an office manager supporting 4 children and a wife he adored but could not help as she declined into mental illness). I never saw my dad show a trace of self-pity. When he was angry, he never shouted or cursed or hit, but a sharp glance from him could seem like the sky falling down. The main lesson I learned from him is that a man meets his responsibilities -- that's the foundation of his dignity.
He died in his 60s -- of grief after my mother passed away. I was 19. Up until his last illness, he could still do a trick where he'd take 4 pennies, place 2 on the back of each hand, then jerk his hands back & with 2 quick cobra-strikes with each hand, snatch the pennies out of the air.
Not all of the advice my father gave me was good advice & hindsight shows that he was wrong in some of his opinions about the major issues of the time. But I've never met a better man. He was intelligent, thoughtful, kind, humorous and he had the kind of courage that can endure day in/day out, year after year, through disability, illness & disappointments, & still remain determined & undefeated.
Happy Father's Day.

[willafly]

Lovely.