Reading Stompy's thread in the picture forum got me to thinking about my Dad. So I thought about making a thread for Dad stories.

Here's mine.

Dad was born in 1921, the perfect age for WWII. My dad was smart, real smart (I didn't get that gene) LOL. He graduated high school in three years, engineering college in 4 years (usually 5 years) as a Aeronautical Engineer. Now the year was 1942. Chance Vaught deferred him from the draft to work on the Corsair. Being a young engineer, he was sent to a carrier to help solve the landing issue's the Corsair had.

Anyway here's my story...

I'm 18 years old and decide our (his) riding lawn mower doesn't have enough power. Well, I'll just take it apart and see what's wrong. Here I am with the piston out of the engine on the work bench and low and behold I have no idea how to get it back together and of course I didn't find anything wrong. So I'm dreading telling dad that I cant' get it back together. Now I will say, Dad never worked on his own vehicles, he took them in for oil changes etc.

So I call Dad the the garage to show him the mess I'm in, ready to accept the big A$$ chewing I deserve. He takes a look and says wait right here as he heads back into his office. Ten minutes later he comes back to the garage with instructions to reassemble the engine. I never realized his vast knowledge until that day. About 30 minutes later we had the engine reassembled and going back on the lawn mower.

Red

Good story; the Corsair is a beautiful plane. My favorite warbird.

My dad killed 2 men in front of me and my little brother in a grocery store. Didn't faze either of us but he quit the PD a few days later. Looking back on the event as an adult I can understand why it shook up my dad pretty badly but as a child it fit into my black and white view of the world concerning who are bad guys vs who are good guys.

My dad was a pilot on a KB-29 (tanker version of the bomber). He said one day his crew chief painted whitewalls on the tires. When asked he said he wanted to crew the only plane in SAC with whitewalls. He was a great dad and always got involved in whatever I was doing. RIP.

it would take hours to cover half the things I could say about my dad during my life, not to mention the stories he told before I was born. Born in 1916 in OK, moved to central TX in a covered wagon ~1922, jack of all trades, could fix anything, WWII Army Air Corp master Sargent, top gunner and chief engineer on a B-24, 52 missions in the European theatre, big family man, hunting outlaw (feeding family), business owner, Christian, honest beyond belief, towed a tight line, etc. Taught me more values that I can remember. He passed in 2004 and not many day goes by that I don't wish I could pick up the phone to call him to tell him something exciting or ask him a question.

My Dad was a wonderful father. He was born 1933 and died in 2002. He was one of those guys that everyone liked, funny too. He loved to squirrel and deer hunt. Marine in the Korean conflict with a purple heart. I have so many stories, I wouldn't know where to start. Standing room only at his funeral. He was definitely loved by his family.

My Dad was a WWII vet. He had a favorite saying whenever he would see a bunch of people protesting or generally acting like dumbazzes. He'd say "Damn, that looks like a good place for a grenade." He passed in 1984 but I still use his line today.

Bunch of good Dads in this group. Love the stories.

I’ll take us the other way, my Dad is good at a lot of things but one of them isn’t being a Dad. Retired Naval officer, had a great career and I have always loved hearing his stories but he never made time for me or my sister.

When I went in the USAF for some reason he wanted to connect, came to visit me at my first duty station out of tech school, first time I’d seen him in years.

His Dad was the same way, didn’t have a lot of love or compassion for anyone. Thankful that my Mom’s dad did, I tried to take everything about my Gramps and love my kids the way he loved his family.

Dad was a tough one. State champ football team in high school, played 2 years of college ball and then joined the Merchant Marine. He never ever seemed to feel pain (except for the bunch of broken ribs he had once, when I was a kid). He was a big deer hunter, rifle and crossbow. Killed his lifetime buck when he was 80 or 81, using a crossbow. When he was maybe 82, he slipped when climbing down from a ladder stand, and caught his left little finger in a V, where the brace connected to the ladder. Tore half his little finger off. He picked up his glove, where the finger half still was, and went home. Mom wouldn’t take him to the hospital, since she was ready for bed, so he drove himself to the emergency room (Imgot all this from the youngest brother). While the finger was being cleaned, he asked the woman if they could sew the other half back on, she asked where it was, so he dug into his pocket and got the glove. Brother said the woman wobbled, but didn’t faint. They didn’t sew it on, but sewed up the stump. Dad got up and headed for his truck. They told him he couldn’t drive himself. Took two cops to keep him out of his truck, and the brother drove him home. He just didn’t feel pain. I did NOT inherit that, though I did get the bullheadedness.

I always wonder what they did with the glove and stump.

Years later, when he was on his death bed, and we were all gathered round. We asked him if we could get him anything. He whispered that “cold beer would be nice”. I dashed to a convenience store and got him a super cold Coors Light. He had a couple of spoonfuls and smiled big.

I sure miss him.

I’m in the “not really any great Dad stories” group.

My Dad was enjoyable to be around, but I didn’t really see him from age 10 to 25. He was really good about taking me everywhere with him when I was little, hardly ever left me a home, but due to circumstances out of his control ( my mom divorcing him and moving 4 hours away) it made it tough. My mom and stepdad made it extremely difficult for him to come around so we didn’t see a lot of each other. Not mad at him at all, it’s just the way it was. Unfortunately he passed in 2010 and didn’t get to spend a lot of time at the end but I did see him some.

My stepdad was a complete idiot who would rant and rave for zero reason every chance he got. He fancied himself a wise sage but was a fool who had a complete aversion to learning, education and lived very much in the “this is the way we did it and if it was good enough for me it’s good enough for you” and “do as I say, not as I do” realm.

I moved out when I was 17 and didn’t speak to him but maybe once or twice after that.

I do not fancy myself smart person, but in large part decided if I do the opposite of what him and my mom did in pretty much any life scenario, then I would be ok. And that strategy has worked out so far.

Fortunately, I have an uncle who filled in and is like a Dad to me, was a much better role model to a young kid.

My dad had a whole life before he had my brother and then me. He was in the Air Force and then an officer in the Navy where he was recruited into the intelligence community. Didnt act like it most of the time but he was a tough man. He had plenty of run ins with violence through his career.

I lost him in August, he was 72. At the age of 35, I don't have a lot of friends that have lost their parents. It was a tough year and I want to call him everyday.

He taught me how to be tough, self sufficient, how to be giving, and that you love your kids unconditionally.

So many weekends and winter breaks spent camping with him.

Man I miss him.

My parents married in 1941 when Dad was a MSGT in the Army; stationed in Oklahoma. They went on a honeymoon and got in a tourist court, now called a motel. He got up the next morning and went to buy some gas. The attendant asked him what he thought about the big fight. Dad thought he meant a boxing match. The pump guy told him the Japs had bombed Pearl Harbor. The honeymoon lasted one night but that’s all it took to plant a seed that is me. They immediately headed back to Altus Field.

He soon deployed to Florida for training on storming a beach. Mom took a train and went along. After a month of training, he headed for New York to go to Europe on a troop ship. Mom went home to Altus. He came home when I was 18 months old and stayed in the military for 23 years. When he got a transfer to Korea, he retired.

I know from their letters that they kept; he was fighting all over Europe and Africa. I have the letters. They were shrunk up to the size of a playing card called VMail.

Dad was born in 1922, His dad died when he was 12, He went to 50 or so grade schools until he quit school in the 11 th grade Him and his brothers were in WW2, He was a Navy guy. He had a Tat that said In memory of the men of The USS Indianapolis, He never spoke about it to me. He died in 1976 when I was 16. Very quiet and reserved. My uncle said he was always the new kid and had to fight the Bullies. I would have never known it. Still Miss him.

The stories I remember about my “dad” most aren’t safe for work.
He was a lazy, mean, crooked, drunk, felon with many more poor accolades.

It is my understanding that he has found the lord while in state care and I’m glad for him.

I fondly remember that one day my dad said Hi to me, at least I think he was talking to me, there were other siblings in the room.

I never let my father be alone with my daughter. That sums up his reputation and his legacy.

I would give anything to have one good memory of him. But I do not.

Near the end of his life he admitted that he 'bullied" all of us because it "works for him."

I do not think I will see him in the next life.

God Bless, Dale