Tell us a story about your dad

[squibber]

My dad had the misfortune of being drafted into the Italian army during WWII. Not long after being drafted was he taken as a POW and sent to a French prison camp.  He was not allowed to mail his family to tell them he is still alive.  In the POW camp, my dad saw many POW's get sick and die often because they were underfed.

The prison captain made an offer. POW's can work on a French farm in exchange for regular decent meals.  My dad volunteered. He tried to sneak out a letter to his family to let them know he was alive but he got caught. The shaved his head and said if he tries to do that again, he would be shot.

When the war was over he traveled back to his small village in Sicily.  Some towns people saw him walking into the village. The went to my dad's mother's house and told her her son was walking down the street.  His mother an out into the street and when she saw him she fainted.

That's all I know. My dad did not want to talk about his experiences during the war.

[EDjohnst1981]

Wow that's some story.

My dad wasn't born during the war. But he's the most amazing man, I've ever had the pleasure to meet.

A very working class guy, he grafted at all manner of jobs from being a welder, to driving trucks before getting into IT in the 90s.

He taught me to work very hard and to provide, and like most men, he'll be a footnote, at best in the grand scheme of life but to me, he is everything.

I'm the eldest of 3 and we always shared sport together, something I've done with my own son - he'd get me up for late night superbowls, F1 and all sorts of stuff. I enjoy listening to him and his views.

I have lots of memories, and one that stands out was when we were in the midst of travelling the UK watching our soccer team when I was 18/19. After a few beers and some good natured banter, he told me he doesn't view me as a son but as his best friend.

He was recently diagnosed with dementia so it's nice to share these things and I'll be sure to remind him.

[Jolly Blue Giant]

Fantastic story squib...remarkable...wow

My dad was my hero. He passed away a few years ago at the age of 94. He was a Navy man, a warrior (WWII and Korea), a dairy farmer who built a great farm out of nothing, an electrician/plumber/building constructor, a gunsmith, an electrical inspector in Syracuse for the New York Board of Fire Underwriters, and in the last 20 years of his life, turned the old barn into a beautiful Bed and Breakfast and together with my mother, they ran it until COVID shut everything down

My dad was the hardest working person I ever knew, a man of honor, a devoted husband and father, a strong Christian, and a patriot who still stood whenever he heard the national anthem (and if you were his child, you didn't sit). He was given the honor of leading the Veterans Day Parade as the VFW Chaplain, to the bridge over the river, where he'd lead the village in prayer and then drop a red, white, and blue wreath of flowers into the river as veterans saluted. And then march with the hundreds of followers through town to the cemetery, where he participated in a 21-gun-salute in the veterans' section. He had a tall flag pole and flew the biggest Stars and Stripes flag in the neighborhood. He was one of "The Greatest Generation", and if you knew him, you'd know why they call those men that...a dying breed

I truly miss him

[Ed Vette]

My father was a custom tailor and hand made his own design sportswear for specialty stores like Bergdorf, Maus and Hoffman and Sulka.

[T200]

My dad and his older brother had a rough childhood and upbringing. They both dropped out of high school and lived on the streets for a number of years. Finding trouble was easier than finding a meal. Eventually they had to decide between going to jail, being killed on the streets, or the military. They both joined.

My dad eventually served 22 years in the Army. Military life, specifically, Army life, was all I knew growing up. We moved around the country quite a few times, mostly on the east coast. I finished my last three years of high school in Germany when he was stationed at Panzer Kaserne, not too far from Stuttgart. I had no concept of 'civilian life' and even did Army JROTC in high school. We left Germany shortly after I graduated and came back to the states. About a month after we returned, he asked me what my plans were now that I was done with school.

Tim: "I'll probably take a year off and then join the Army."
Tim's Dad: "Army huh? That's your plan? Take a year off and join the Army?"
Tim: "Yes, I figure a year would be enough time to figure out what I really want to do."
Tim's Dad: "Oh, OK. We're going to the Air Force recruiter tomorrow."

His reasoning was that while his Army career put him in a position to take care of his family, the many deployments and field training exercises caused him to miss out on a lot of family time and events. He also said that the Air Force treats their people the best out of all of the services.

Here I am, almost three-years retired from the Air Force after 26 years of combined active and reserve duty. Maybe the guy knew a thing or two.

[Jolly Blue Giant]

You had a smart father, Tim (I used the past tense, I hope that is not the case).

[T200]

You had a smart father, Tim (I used the past tense, I hope that is not the case).

He still has his moments but he also has some    real headscratchers lol

And yes, he's still with us lol

[squibber]

My father was a custom tailor and hand made his own design sportswear for specialty stores like Bergdorf, Maus and Hoffman and Sulka.

Good for your father. My dad has no special skills or education. His first job was in a foundry. His second job was a construction laborer. After 12 years in America living in a small apartment, my parents bought a brand new house. They were over the moon when they moved in.

[bamagiantfan]

In the Fall my father would take us boys out to help him cut wood for the winter. After church we would hop in the pickup and drive to a property about 30 minutes away to cut down some dead trees and load the wood into the truck.

As it got closer to game time the logs always seemed to get a little longer. After I stepped over one log a couple of times my father said, "just pick that one up and get it out of your way."

I said, "Can you cut them a little shorter? They are getting kind of heavy."

Dad said, "That's just because they weigh so much son. Pick it up." 

Being late for kickoff was not an option.