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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incredibly moving. thank you, and happy father's day.
Nice post, Alec. Bittersweet since he never got to see what powerhouse acting clan his boys became.
As far as the silver medal, I think any father (or parent for that matter) who conscientiously tries to raise their kids to the best of their abilities knows we are not perfect. We all make mistakes, and those who criticized you so harshly don't have any kids themselves, are self-righteous new parents (we all go through that) or are likely not very involved in their kid's lives. Any parent who parents knows we're not perfect.
It must be great to have those feelings for a parent. I wish I could say the same for mine who have been gonners since 91 and 94, they were OK but nothing more and were the main reasons for me to stay single.
One thought that comes to my mind, Alec, are you OK? I understand that you miss your dad, but do not forget that you have a, as I can figure out, a wonderful mum and she is alive and kicking although she has had more than her normal share of bad health over the years.
And also it must be awful to suspect that the lead from the rifle range shortened your dad s life. But do not forget that he, as I understand, also smoked the pipe and, since you at least enjoy the odd cigarr from to time, must not forget the risk of smoking tobacco and preferrably cigarrettes. You must bare that in mind. Alec, since we want to keep you with us for a long time to come.
Quit smoking is the best advice I can give you. And of course, I wish you personally a great Fathers Day.
Alec,
My father was born in 1925 and attended Boys High.. and was in the Marines.. Moe passed away 17 years ago.. We read the times.. watched Omnibus, Meet the Press.. and he never met a man he couldn't find something in common with.
These men will all soon be gone.. the real Dad's of the world.. putting country and family first and foremost. Always denying themselves so that the five us could have what we wanted.. not needed.. I was Daddy's little girl.. and I still am..
Alec: Great remembrances of your father. My Dad died in 1988 of complications with colon cancer and a rheumatic heart. His memorial service was held on a pitch black Friday night in January but it was standing-room only.
My father--and mother--had that special gift of interacting well with both young and older people. Later in the same year he died, I attended my 20-year reunion in my old hometown. Several friends asked about my parents and I could see them saddened when I told them about Dad's passing. One said: "I liked your Dad because he never belittled any of us and always seemed to enjoy our company. He treated us like young adults."
My father proved to me the only worthy legacy a person can leave behind is a good reputation.
Wow Alec, you were so lucky to have him. This made me cry.
~retta in KS
Thank you for that lovely tribute to your father. I particularly relate to what you said about a part of you dying when your father died, as I feel quite the same way. It's been 16 years since he passed away, and I miss him constantly, wishing I could share with him my triumphs and joys as well as my fears, misgivings, and worries. When you have a good, loving, caring father, as I did -- well, there's just nothing like that in the world. So I join with you in wishing all fathers everywhere a happy day, and I wish for every young person a father even a fraction as good as mine was.
Wow that was wonderful I must admit There are tears in my eyes
I miss my Dad, I miss him so he was my best friend .
Thank you Mr. Baldwin Happy Fathers Day.
Thanks for the memories.
My father, too, is gone.
Smoked a pipe.
My two dogs names? Huntley and Brinkley.
All my life lessons were learned the hard way, however my father was always there for me.
God bless them for that.
My Dad was a Scandanavian immigrant but dark with more Slavik features. His Dad and my other grandfather worked in the slaugterhouses in Chicago. My Dad worked in a soap factory for 42 years. If it wasn't for my Grandfathers and my Dad and brothers, you wouldn't have an eight-hour day or Social Security. He'd say; "If you let them, they'll put you in a mine and never let you see the light of day." In the 1950's he'd sometimes go to work with a gun in his belt. My mother cried in the kitchen as if he were going off to battle. HIs Dad died of drink and his older brother died, so he took care of the family. A straight A student and great athlete, my Dad became an angry man. He did things that made me leave home at a very young age. On the road alone - poverty, the Marines, war, prison, whatever - it took until my mid- 40's until I could look rationally look back at himi. I visitied him over the years before he died. I saw him with his one eye, scarred from head to foot. He literally fought, day after day, for everything that he believed was right for his family. I'd like to remind the Dad's out there that, once in awhile, walk into your kids' room, touch them on the back, and tell them how loved and respected they are.
Bless you for your journey and for sharing your experiences with us. How gracious of you that you can see the positive in your father's behavior while growing up. My parents were both very unwanted children who experienced very little love from their parents but, thanks to the love of grandparents and other relatives, they were determined to raise us differently. I had never been told I was loved (by my parents) until I married at age 29. I have always told my two sons, on a regular basis, that I love them and are proud of them when they make their best effort. My oldest just graduated from high school last week. After 9th grade, he chose to apply to the nationally ranked public magnet school in our area because they had some advanced classes that were not available at any other school. He did not get in until his junior year (acceptance is by lottery and has nothing to do with grades). He has a learning disability and I was very concerned about this change. He worked harder than I could have ever imagined and was recognized as an "Enloe Scholar" for achieving a 3.2 or better. He is attending the #2 undergrad program in the country in industrial design this fall. I am so proud of his hard work :)
I wrote all this while not saying thank you to Mr. Baldwin. Thank you, Mr. Baldwin.
That was heartfelt Alec. I especially liked the ending wishes. So Happy Father's Day to you!
I love this. It is obvious that you really love and admire your father. Although he set the bar pretty high, somehow I am confident that it is not too high for someone like you; you are very special and being a father is one of the many ways that you shine. My mom is a high school teacher. I think that teachers are legends in their own right in that there are generations of people, their students, who know them, learn from them, and remember them. I read your book and was just amazed at how you never gave up, no matter what. There is a double standard. A mother would never be expected (barring unusual circumstances) to part with her young daughter. Reading the book changed my understanding of what fatherhood is, or can be. No matter the topic, I find your take on things unusually honest, heartfelt, and true. Happy Father's Day!
Great write Alex. I'm sure he would have loved 30 Rock.
Thank you for opening up like that. I know the pain of losing a parent so I can relate to the feeling you describe here.
Alec, you are you because of your Dad and we all thank him for that. Happy Father's Day!!!
but explain stephen? I think I can....
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