The GOAT

Things my Dad didn’t understand: 

1. A man not supporting his family. 
2. An NBA player missing a free throw. 
3. Anyone hurting a child. 
4. A major leaguer who couldn’t bunt. 
5. He didn’t understand cars because he didn’t drive until he left New York at age 28, a married man, but he taught me a lot about cars. Because if a car broke, he expected that we would fix it, if possible. I remember a frigid, sleeting Sunday, and the Ford LTD was dead in the driveway. I was a young teen with no desire to be working in those conditions. He asked me if I liked to eat. He explained that his paycheck paid for groceries, and that to get a paycheck, he had to get to work, which meant the LTD had to start. Bingo! I got it. 
6. He never, ever got mad at or argued with my mom in our presence. She was right and that was it. We never tried to get her overruled.

Things my Dad loved: 

1. He loved his kids without reservation. 
2. He was a Brooklyn (later LA) Dodgers fan since his childhood in Brooklyn, where he became a baseball fanatic. But he also admired Boston’s Ted Williams for his batting prowess. 
3. He loved any kid and they all loved him. 
4. He loved providing for his family. He experienced a difficult upbringing and was bound and determined that his kids would never have to go hungry or lie to the rent man. 
5. He was proud of us, but all of us getting college degrees was icing on the cake. 
6. He loved to cook, especially for a crowd. Spaghetti normally, but baked chicken, potato salad, hamburgers, and pumpkin pie were always potentially on the menu. He believed in eating potatoes in some form every day (we were Irish, after all). It wasn’t unusual to have pasta and mashed potatoes in the same meal.

He took me on business trips, and I would ride my bike for miles around Savannah, Greenville, Birmingham, or numerous small towns all over the South. It was a different time. Free range doesn’t begin to explain it. Sometimes I would sit in on meetings and then pepper him with questions later. I learned a lot about how a faltering business would cook the books because, as an auditor, he knew how to sniff it out.  

One of my most vivid memories was the time I ran into a jagged brick wall on my brand-new bike at our aunt and uncle’s house, right next door to ours. It was so bad that one of my sisters, who saw the whole accident happen right in front of her, said that she saw my lower teeth jutting out through my lower lip. Gruesome. And bloody. I remember lying on my doctor’s table and being sewed up when my Dad came in. I asked him how my bike was. His reply—which every kid needs to hear—was “I only care about you. I can get you another bike, I can never get another you.”

I love you, Dad!

P.S. The title is modern slang for “Greatest of All Time,” if you didn’t already know that.

Kelly Burke, attorney, former district attorney, and magistrate judge, writes about the law, rock’n’roll, and politics or anything that strikes him. Contact Kelly at dakellyburke@gmail.com to comment on this article or suggest articles that you’d like to see, and visit his website at www.kellyrburke.com.