Just after my birthday, at the end of August… my ol’man would start talking about his birthday coming up. He was born December 10, 1951,coming a couple of months premature. In 1951, a couple months premature was usually a death sentence. The scene would have made that death sentence even more likely. It was in … Continue reading Episode 8: My Ol’man loved booze and his birthday
My ol’man died ten years ago today. On that day I wrote… “You might remember the gruff exterior, but no one had a bigger, more pure heart than this guy.” He always lead with the heart, and as the sadness of life wears down my edges and the joys of life open my eyes to … Continue reading My ol’man peeled off into the sunset ten years ago today
This is my ol’man’s high school senior portrait— it’s the only photo of him that I ever remember him liking. He was born 68 years ago today, December 10, 1951. He came a couple of months premature, and in 1951, that was usually a death sentence. In a long gone, old tenement-looking building behind City … Continue reading Happy Birthday Number 68 to my ol’man in heaven
We moved around a lot growing up– I had been in seven different schools by the time sixth grade rolled around. Even with the many bumps in the road, at the time it all seemed normal enough. There was even the opportunity for some special moments which wouldn’t have otherwise happened. Orchard Park Middle School … Continue reading Nothing like sharing a pop with my ol’man
My ol’man used to (somewhat proudly) tell the story about how he got suspended from South Park High School for ditching class to go see Lyndon Johnson speak in Niagara Square. LBJ and Lady Bird with Buffalo Mayor Frank Sedita and New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller in Buffalo in 1966.In the 40 years or so … Continue reading Presidents Day reflection: The Ol’Man & LBJ
This Hertel Avenue litter triggered an instant memory flashback: “Hey Steve-o, here’s a couple bucks. Go to the store and get your ol’man a pack of smokes. Your grandmother, too. And get yourself a candy bar, ok?” Even at 6 years old, Dad didn’t have to tell me to get him Parliament 100s or Grandma … Continue reading “Go up to the store to buy your ol’man a pack’a smokes.”
March 28th was Palm Sunday eight years ago– I remember because during the 3am hour, Dad had a heart attack in his hospital bed at the VA, and despite the best efforts of the ICU team, he died. That’s him, by the way, on the left with his older brothers Mike “Hooker” Doyle and Chuck … Continue reading My ol’man’s been gone eight years– but not too far…
As I continue to evolve into my father, with great anticipation, I bought a fruitcake today. My ol’man would excitedly exclaim, “Man, cut that up! I LOVE fruitcake!” to no one in particular, because no one else would eat what I assumed was rotten dreck. Well just now, I ate a quarter of this thing … Continue reading The Ol’man & Fruitcake
My ol’man taught us respect for everyone, and as a veteran, he made sure that we understood that veterans deserved extra respect. We always gave a buck to the dusty, shriveled World War I vets who were selling poppies outside the grocery store and the bank. In this increasingly cashless world, when I don’t have … Continue reading As my ol’man taught us, it’s not enough, but “thanks”
It’s my favorite Dukes of Hazzard moment. I was in First Grade, and “The Dukes” were just about the most popular thing in the world. Maybe tied with Michael Jackson’s Thriller album. The early ’80s were a tough time in South Buffalo– and my dad had a tough time finding work. Plants closed and he … Continue reading My ol’man, pizza, and the Dukes of Hazzard
