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.
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Syracuse U!! My Alma Mater! Well, it's not like I had a say in it; I think Dad enrolled me at birth. Maybe just because my godfather was a prof of history there. Turned out all for the best, as SU had what I wanted to major in. Dad put me through miserable h ell during those years,sigh. I bet ANYTHING if I hadn't partied royally and had gotten 4.0 throughout the 4 years he would have still kicked my a$$ over something or other. I did graduate, with a BA, but to the day he died he never let me forget how he "sunk money into my education". In fact, everytime I did any small thing he would say (in his thick Czech accent): "I see that your education has not gone entirely to vaste!" He had a wicked sense of humour (that dry,bent Czech humour). I remember when he first delivered me to SU and saw the liquor stores with their neon "on sale" signs, he exclaimed: "Geezoos Krayst! How can vun afford to stay sober heer?!" Well, he passed away 4 years ago and his birthday was 6/6/27. I could write a bloody TOME about him and his antics.
Hey, at least I know how to dress a man thanks to his schlepping me down to Brooks Brothers in NYC since I was a little kid!
I miss him.
Bless ALL Dads! Despite lots, we know you are worth MORE than bronze.;)
OT, but, "Thank you, Christian Bale?" You need to host SNL more often -- that was rich.
My relationship with my child is also "complicated" at this time and it would be easy for me to sink into self pity and remorse as yet another Father's Day intensifies the void of estrangement. Reading Mr. Baldwin's post really puts things in perspective for me. Instead of focusing on what's missing, I've put my energy into being grateful for my own father. Nothing heals like a good dose of gratitude.
I love Alec baldwin...
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Having said that,Is it wrong if I believe its totally stupid to have a so called father's day?I mean why do we have women's day,mother's day or valentine's day?
I dont need ONE specific day to show my love/appreciation towards anyone-I actually think its selfish.
Also from a business POW,Its a great gimmick by card manufacturers to make sales for their cards.
It's that Bronze medal that bothers me....
Fathers, in that time of the world were complicated, if we look at them from the world we live in now. When they yelled at you and chewed you out, it meant they loved you. Though it may have taken many years after you reached adulthood to realize it. Their anger was full of compasion, maybe that's why it penetrated so deeply and had such an impact.
It was a way of teaching you, and demanding from you self respect, even if at first, it only meant standing up for yourself. You will always need your father, no matter where you are in you life. That's just the way it is. He was the one that turned you into a man, and he was the one that knew what that meant.
Nevertheless, a Bronze medal is about as high an award as you're going to get. I think the senior Mr. Baldwin was implying that there are awards inherent in fatherhood other than recognition. let alone adoration. At least that's how I interpreted what Alec wrote.
Perfect.
My wish, for you, is that when you retire and find love again, you have the opportunity to experience fatherhood the way you truly want it to be. It's unfair when life takes a turn and we find ourselves so far away from where our path should have led. All the fame and success just cannot replace the simple pleasures of loving, being loved, and just sitting back to watch your child blossom into a wonderful human being. I have no doubt that your father would have been very proud of you. Life may have thrown you a curve ball -- but you never stop trying. All the best ot you.
It's a long life. One never knows when a child is going to need the parent they've rejected. And nothing paves the way for reconciliation better than forgiveness, patience, and unconditional love. My recommendation to any parent (man or woman) who is hurting during this Father's Day is to hang in there for the long haul. I once read somewhere that "the truth eventually shines out from even the darkest corner."
Great tribute to a wonderful person. Thanks for such a poignant and personal glimpse into your family...A
Laura from kansas
Exactly. heartfelt, sincere,
I don't agree with you often, Alec, but I appreciated your column today. Thanks for sharing.
Alec: I had your dad for Social Studies and Driver's Ed while at MHS in the '60's. He was a champion of fairness and is truly the only teacher that I can recall. Mr. Baldwin was very much like my own father. He was strict but fair, stern but funny, and always warm. He was the essence of a "dad" to many of the kids in my graduating class. Thanks for sharing, then and now.
Happy Father's Day to my dad (rest in peace).. You were misunderstood and you misunderstood. I wish your life could have been happier. But you didn't know any better.
I hope my kids might write something like that about me someday. Thanks, Alec. You're a good man.
Thanks Alec. A very thoughtful article. And R.I.P. to my dad--I love U.
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Thank you Alec I hope there is a Heaven were we can meet the people we love so much
but are gone.
Thank you Alec, for sharing your dad with us. I hope you have a Happy FAther's Day
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