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.
Loading comments…
Want to reply to a comment? Hint: Click "Reply" at the bottom of the comment; after being approved your comment will appear directly underneath the comment you replied to
I am about to share this with my husband who is one of the coaches for our 11-year-old son’s football team. My husband is tall and strong with unbridled enthusiasm for every moment in life, has hugs that can fix everything and a laugh that fills the room. I read this piece and it reinforces my thinking that your dad, like my husband, is the type of guy that makes lasting memories. My husband is an old school football coach, nicknamed “Tough Coach” yet the one that the kids always want watching their backs or right beside them when they are injured. I have everything I want in a husband and in the father of our two children. Yet, as recently as last night, my husband mentioned that he wishes he could give more or do more. To which I gave the reply sounding like the stereotypical Italian wife that I am – “What are you crazy? What more could I possibly need?” I will repeat what I said last night and that is, I have someone who loves me unconditionally and given me a daughter and son who are self-reliant and resilient. Mr. Baldwin, I suspect you have given the same lessons of resilience and self-reliance because you had this in your own life and there is nothing better for the future than having adaptable kids out there in the world today.
HAPPY FATHERS DAY ALEX!!
I hope you give your daughter some good wisdom she will remember forever.
My father was a marine also in wwii at guadacanal and I lost him 9 years ago. Allthought he was 78 years old and had a long full life. I was lucky to have him that long and I count my blessings. He was very successful and had 4 children with my mother but married 3 more times all to younger women each time and no other children. He never stopped his support of 3 girls and 1 son as we all had holidays together eventually etc. He was a wonderful man who dropped out of college to support my mother. He had a rough time to say the least with 3 teenager girls who where a big challenge. He kept us on the right track and never stopped in his firm support. He was rough at times but he was ususally right allways in the end.
Best to You today!!
My dad has been gone 5 years, he was 6 foot six and could be real mean. I got into 2 fist fights with him over the years. I miss the old guy.
Alec Baldwin is one of the most intelligent men I've seen in Hollywood.
Beautifully written and very touching.
STAY-AT-HOME DADS: A musical tribute to you: "HOUSEHUSBAND MACHO!"
http://sou
Pretty cute! Oh, boy "cute" wrong word to use! Got a good chuckle out of it. Reminds me of someone I saw grow to manhood and now sports a few of their own.
What a lovely tribute, Alec. Thank you so much for sharing that with us. Most of us don't live up to our ideals in any way but most especially as parents. I am most grateful not to be a celebrity and have the entire world judge my missteps as a mother.
I've learned that I just need to suit up, show up and tell the truth, learn from my mistakes, make amends where necessary, forgive myself and move on.
Thank you for all your years of entertaining us. I love you on 30 Rock. You rock!
Happy Father's Day, Alec!
Your father sounds a lot like my grandfathers; and now like my younger brother, a father of three precious girls.
The older I get, the more I miss my father; and wonder what his guidance would've meant throughout my life. He died suddenly when I was five. Life has never been the same; but we've done the best we could w/out him. In the short time I knew him, I knew he was a great man and he loved us much.
Cherish your fathers, HuffPosters!
I always felt that when it came to dads, I'd won the lottery! Gone over ten years now, he's with me still...to
When I was still grieving his death and my loss, my daughter said, "how can you miss him so much, mom? You're so him." I think, dear Alec, you too are so him. Love to all great fathers...
My father was a very destroyed man, by HIS father. He made my mother's, my brother's and my life miserable. As I grew up...slowl
He died when I was 18 and I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief.
Now, I wish I'd known him...at all. He was very intelligent, gifted and funny ( when not around his children). He made my brother's life hell picking on him constantly and then, later mine.
I've finally gotten my parents "right-sized" along with my own self...mos
So, fathers out there, be kind to your children; they do not belong to YOU. They were NOT created in YOUR image, even you sons! Cherish them while you can and let them make mistakes without picking them apart. And listen to their MOTHER (if she's sane) every once in awhile....
It is hard to see parents as being only people, they were to be our protectors, guides the people who embrace us and love us, but is doesn't always happen that way. One gets a healthy road when they are able to view their parents as people - the good the flaws and all. I hope you are able to heal from the disappointments. People can do all kinds of disappointing things.
Children are not the image of their parents, however their path in life can be determined by them.
I wish my kids dad was kinder to them, --- I wish people in general were.
Best through your healing process, putting things in balance can make you a better parent,
The one I saw grow up, takes his little ones fishing, playgrounds, etc. all the things he wished his dad would have done with him. --- another is still hurting.
best to you
A profoundly beautiful post Kassandra.
Thanks for posting, Kassandra. I am often of two minds about both my dad and mom. They were wonderful in so many ways, but my dad also made life miserable for us a lot, because he had a lot of anger and blew up and started arguments (sometimes, literally, over NOTHING) that went on for hours. Other than that, he was a great dad! LOL. But seriously, he did have other flaws. Because of his anger, I estranged myself from him, and that led to me having little guidance and help from him when I needed it most. That really hurt me and impacted my life negatively. It's so easy, now that he's gone, to see his good points. I wish I'd seen them earlier. But for that, I cannot only "blame myself" - we both carry that responsibility. And that's life, I guess.
Alec, a very real and beautiful tribute.
My relationship with my own Father is, as you say,... complicated. In spite of the complications, I still respect and revere him. I realize now that he did the best he could under the circumstances and have forgiven him whatever shortcomings I perceive he had. Even though we do not talk much (like I said, it's complicated), I just called to wish him Happy Father's Day.
Alec, I was an ocean lifeguard at Tobay Beach and you were a toddler just stating to walk. I was an MHS grad but I had never previously spoken to your dad. In the brief conversation at the beach that I remembered years later I sensed his powerful nurturing presence. My 3 younger brothers played football for him and all spoke highly of him. One of them, when he met your mother years later, praised your father, telling of the appropriate tough love he displayed to students. I think that made your mother's day.
The strongest memory I have of your father from MHS in the mid-70s was walking behind him one day in the halls and hearing him whistling up a storm. I guess it was very unusual to hear a teacher whistling in the hallways as I remember thinking "wow, what a happy guy he must be!"
I miss my dad most when I look at my kids and think of all the things they will never get to experience with their grandfather. Sometimes what you think you might have missed as a parent you get to make up for as a grandparent.
Happy Father's Day.
My father, now gone 26 years, never lectured me.
And yet he taught me well, by his own behavior,
that berating others is never necessary to get one's
perspective across.
My Dad was a pacifist. Watching the early "Star Trek"
episodes with me, he would shake his head and
wonder aloud why it is that men must kill, even in the
idealized future.
As a child, he was a physically and psychologically
abused by his father. And yet he maintained the
courage and presence of mind to never abuse me,
verbally or physically, in any way.
Many were the times he would look at me with tears
in his eyes and say, "I wish my father had loved me
even half of how much I love you."
I wish all children could have a father like mine.
Happy Father's Day, Dad, wherever you are.
I love you.
Wow, what a wonderful man he sounds like. To overcome his own pain like that, and change, and be the man he was. That's pretty amazing!
My dad didn't really mean to be mean, he just had what I think was a sort of mental illness that made him rage. He was a pussycat a lot of the time -- he was so into holidays, Christmas trees, Halloween, fixing up the backyard so it was the funnest in the neighborhood (pool, slide, badminton court, etc. etc.)... but he just had these demons, and they made the family miserable so much of the time. It is really sad, but I guess he did the best he could. I wish like I said, I'd grown out of my anger a little faster. By the time I started to, he was getting Alzheimers. Tragic.
That was a beautiful and unforgettable tribute.
You must be logged in to comment. Log in or connect with
