The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age

    Dad to the Rescue

     

    Driving up to Vermont, I thought of him

    Mom had given me some momentos---

    Masonic ring, leather wallet,

    a stack of canceled hundred dollar checks

    ---some great contacts there, such as

    McGovern, Happy Chandler and Kefauver.

     

    I was in my mid thirties when a head hunter

    on Park Ave asked me what my Dad "did".

    Unprepared for this question pitched directly,

    ----"Retired" I lied.

    What your Dad "did" has no bearing upon

    an introduction of you to an investment bank,

    nevertheless it was included:

    "Mr. Mora's formative years were much influenced

    by his Dad who was a ....diamond in the rough, just

    had a sixth grade education, had a big heart, was born

    on a dirt floor cabin in Harlan, Kentucky, the expectation 

    of being racist but donated land to a Black church, helped

    the little guy, gave money to broke relatives, as well as

    complete strangers....and never uttered a prejudice or

    a religious slur...well, except for people who excused

    bad behavior in a confessional, not including his

    real estate developer friends.

     

    Son, I don't understand why you threw away a

    graduate business degree trying to find yourself.

    I think you should have gone to law school. Maybe I

    should have let you follow that girl on up to Wooster

    College like you wanted. CHRIST, WATCH IT.

     

    Folks in Vermont love to pass on blind curves.

    Dad's warning came just in time.

     

    Son, if you don't stop trying to write stuff in your head

    you're going to get us both killed before we get home.

     

     

    Comments

     Wonderful, Oxy.    Simply wonderful.   My appreciation for my father has grown immensely over the 45 years since his passing.  I cherish small memories and can still feel the warmth and the humor.


    Thanks, Mr. Smith. 45 years and it still seems like yesterday.

    Some times I can't bear to think of old times, and then I have a dream, or hear a turn of speech and can't help but think back and laugh.
     


    ...


    Reminds me of the "Look out!"s in Sometimes a Great Notion. The past always sneaking up on ya.


    Thanks, Peracles Haven't read the book,but should have. I would have saved a lot of time not acting it out myself.

    The "little voice" has saved my bacon a number of times and I shouldn't admit this but on a couple of occasions it was audible. "Look left!"

    Or did you mean the Mellencamp album "Big Daddy". (My Dad could have stood in for Burl Ives)


    As you go through life, make this your goal

    Watch the donut, not the hole.

    Yes, Burl Ives figures prominently. Read the book, not the movie - 1 of my 2-3 all-time faves.


    I missed this and it just struck me so.

    I hereby render unto Oxy the Dayly Blog of the Week Award for this here Dagblog Site; given to all of Oxy from all of me. hahahahah

    This is just beautious, as we used to say in middle school. hahahaha

    Kind of hard to tell Dad to stuff it!

    hahahaha


    Hey, Richard. Thanks, man, you are too kind.

    The conversations we never had. I'm trying not to repeat that pattern.


    That is why I watch my son with his daughters.

    They aint afraid.

    hahahahaha

    They love Daddy.

    These kids live in an entirely different universe.

    And this universe is much satisfying?

    ha

    We survived.

    These babies live in a happier world.

    THANK THE GOOD LORD. 

    i must have done some things right!

    His kids have no fear.

    And his kids shall always be forever young.



    Richard, your grand kids are lucky to have you in their life. And we are forever young---I stay away from mirrors. And, that facetime thing---evil invention.

    I was thinking about those canceled check political donations my mother saved. I can't for the life of me understand his contribution to Happy Chandler in Kentucky----we lived in Ohio. And a hundred dollars back then was real money. I worked on a labor gang at a steel mill and saved about everything, $600, my spending money, travel for a year at college.