Today is my father's birthday. If he were still with us he would be 86. My dad was sort of a renaissance man, or a rebel, a free thinker or maybe just plain stubborn but whatever adjective you use to describe him, boring would not be one of them.
My dad was born in San Antonio in 1923 but lived in several different parts of Texas during his life. He lived in Austin, Corpus Christi, Quemada, the hill country but his heart was always in San Antonio.
He started working at a very young age as a radio actor. At sixteen he decided to pursue a career in radio which he did until Uncle Sam decided differently. He served with the US Army Communication Corp in the Pacific Theater during World War II. Upon his return stateside he was fascinated by television and got into that as quickly as he could. He was an announcer, a weatherman, an anchorman, an artist. He built sets for such programs as "Shock" and "Captain Gus". He had the privilege of interviewing many celebrities such as Raymond Burr and John Glenn.
Being the creative sort, he was drawn to movies and took a stab at making a few himself. One of his movies has been released after many years on DVD and one stands as a tribute in the garden of Frank Thompson. Realizing that San Antonio was not the "new" Hollywood, Daddy returned to television only to leave again a few years later to enter the comic book world which was an enduring career that lasted until his death.
He was all these things, actor, movie maker, tv personality, politician, and artist but to me he was just "daddy". We were too much alike to always get along but I knew, and appreciated, that my homelife was a bit unusual. I grew up with my dad on tv or my dad splicing movies in the back room or, instead of reading me a story, we talked Egyptology. I wouldn't have had it any other way although I didn't realize that until much later in my life.
To my kids he started out as "Pop Pop" but quickly turned into "Banker" and not for the obviously assumed reason. He used to play superhero with my son -- my son being Aquaman and he would slosh into the "bank" and my father was "the Banker", hence the name Banker or Bank. Nope, no Grandpa, PaPa or PopPop for him -- Banker fit him to a tee. He nicknamed my daughter "Breezy Wheezy Motor Mouth" which stuck with her much longer than I am sure she cared for it to. He absolutely adored my kids and was always there with a typewriter to take apart or to help build a Micky Mouse replica for school. My kids were blessed in having an unconventional grandfather with a brilliant, artistic mind.
I choose to believe that he knows how great the kids grew up to be, how fantastic and wonderful Nathan and Kathryn are and how I am growing to resemble him more every day. And I choose to believe that he knows that we wish him a very happy birthday!
3 comments:
Your father's death affected me almost as much as my own father's did. But then, I knew your father longer than I knew mine, so I guess that's not too hard to understand. I especially miss those Christmas Eve bashes when he would regale us all with tales of his youth and hold forth on everything from Ancient Mesopotamia to Joe's hamburgers. Even M says he still misses him and those long conversations they used to have, once a year or so. Who would have expected a boy from a working class Texas background to turn out so sophisticated and multi-talented? He was one of a kind (although there's a lot of him in you).
And he was pretty gorgeous, too, wasn't he?
Yeah, I miss him too. Those Christmas Eve's were pretty much fun, weren't they? He was one of a kind, for sure. And yes, he was pretty gorgeous.
There is a lot of him in me and I am recognizing it more and more the older I get. I think it has to do with attitude -- he was really laid back and I am getting more and more that way too.
This has just been a really sad day.
Ms. Boyett-Brinkley, I was so happy to find your comment on Dave Karlen's blog, re:Dungeon of Harrow.
That movie captured my intense interest from the first time I saw it on the black-and-white console in my 1965 living room.
I love the florid language, the amateur acting (Bill McNulty's dinner-theater-quality work is a joy to behold).
The sets were cheap, yes, but they were dead-on creepy.
The female leads were very attractive, and perfect for the parts.
I tell anyone who will listen that DOH was an excellent first feature considering the lack of experience and budget.
I just want to say you have a right to be very proud of your pop. The man had talent to burn, and who knows what he might have given to the world had he not lost his equipment in that fire.
Here's hoping you and yours are doing well.
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