With Father's Day just around the corner I thought
it would be interesting to get away from politics
for a bit and tell stories about what you learned
from your dad. What kind of a man he was,
and what is the most important thing he taught you?

I'll go first.

My father was a quiet gentle soul who I never heard
say a bad thing about anyone. He lost a great deal
during WWII. Family members, his country. Yet he took
whatever life dealt him and never complained. He
instilled in us the importance of being self-reliant.
Working hard, and that family was everything.

He was a
decent man - who loved us very much. He loved watching
American westerns on TV. And he loved the game of snooker
which he was good at.

I remember once when dad came
home from work very late and mum was furious because
she'd kept dinner for him. His excuse was he'd fallen
asleep in the local pub's toilet on his way home.
We all knew he'd been playing snooker.
He loved to win.

Dad died of a massive coronary at the age of 52.
Far too young. And I miss him very, very, much.

cont'd ...

I came across this "Daddy's poem" by an anonymous
author on the web that I think is worth sharing:

Her hair was up in a pony tail. Her favourite dress
tied with a bow. Today was Daddy's Day at school,
And she couldn't wait to go. But her mummy tried to
tell her that she probably should stay home. Why the
kids might not understand if she went to school alone.

But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say,
What to tell her classmates of why he wasn't there today.
But still her mother worried, for her to face this day alone
And that was why once again, she tried to keep her daughter
home.

But the little girl went to school eager to tell them all,
About a dad she never sees. A dad who never calls.
There were daddies along the wall in back, for everyone
to meet. Children squirming impatiently anxious in their
seats. One by one the teacher called a student from the
class. To introduce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed.

At last the teacher called her name, every child turned to
stare. Each of them was searching for a man who wasn't
there. "Where's her daddy at?" she heard a boy call out.
"She probably doesn't have one," another student dared to
shout. And from somewhere near the back she heard a
daddy say, "Looks like another deadbeat dad, too busy to
waste his day".

The words did not offend her, as she smiled up at her mum,
and looked back at her teacher who told her to go on.
And with her hands behind her back, slowly she began to
speak, and out from the mouth of a child, came words
incredibly unique.

"My daddy couldn't be here, because he lives so far away,
but I know he wishes he could be, since this is such a
special day. And though you cannot meet him, I wanted you
to know, all about my daddy and how much he loves me so".

cont'd ...

cont'd ...

"He loved to tell me stories. He taught me to ride a bike.
He surprised me with red roses and taught me to fly a kite.
We used to share fudge sundaes and ice cream in a cone, and
thought you cannot see him I'm not standing here alone.
'Cause my daddy's always with me, even though we are apart,
I know because he told me, he'll forever be in my heart".

With that, her little hand reached up, and lay across her chest,
feeling her own heartbeat, beneath her favourite dress.
And from somewhere in the crowd of dads, her mother stood in
tears, proudly watching her daughter, who was wise beyond her
years.

For she stood up for the love of a man not in her life,
doing what was best for her, doing what was right.
And when she dropped her hand back down, staring straight into
the crowd, she finished with a voice so soft, but its message
was clear and loud.

"I love my daddy very much, he's my shining star. And if he
could he'd be here but heaven's just too far. You see he was
a fireman and died just this past year. He was fighting fires
so folks wouldn't live in fear. But sometimes when I close
my eyes it's like he never went away".

And then she closed her eyes and saw him there that day.
And to her mother's amazement, she witnessed with surprise,
a room full of daddies and children all starting to close
their eyes.

Who knows what they saw before them, who knows what they
felt inside, perhaps for merely a second they saw him at
her side. "I know you're with me daddy," to the silence she
called out, and what happened next made believers of those
once filled with doubt.

cont'd ...

cont'd ...

No one in that room could explain it, for each of their
eyes had been closed. But there on the desk beside her,
was a fragrant long-stemmed rose. And a child was blessed,
if only for a moment, by the love of her shining star, and
given the gift of believing that heaven is never too far.

Hi Foxy, good topic.

My 'Old Man', a term I use affectionately as we were very close. He had 2 daughters and 3 sons, I'm the second youngest. The Old Man was very old, old school. I remember when I started Mech Eng, Dad was a mechanical engineer himself, he asked me "How many blokes in the class?", I said; "About 20, and a couple of girls"..."What's girls doing in the class?". For a bit of a gee up I said. "Oh, the typing class was full so they put them in with us" .... He says, "Gee, hope they make room in the typing class for them soon."..."I'm sure they will Dad, don't want them in the wrong class, do we." That was about 1972.

Dear Paul,

Your dad sounds like my father-in-law. He could not
believe the fact that I had graduated from uni. But
when he found out that I had also completed a secretarial
diploma course earlier - he thought it great that I had a
"back-up plan" for a job.

Dad was in the citizen light horse between the wars, so it was strange he went into the air force when WW11 started. He was a great horseman, & taught me to ride & shoot from foot or horse. He could quieten the wildest horse, but not was much with cars. even in my teens it was me who had to make sure the car brakes & suspension worked properly.

He could build a billy cart, cubby house or full sized house, & taught me much helping, but I had to do the decoke on the car. He taught me to sail, grow stuff, & how to look after live stock, & lost of stuff we don't realise is important, until we see others who were never taught.

When he died suddenly he left mum, who didn't drive, in a beautiful but isolated spot on Lake Macquarie. I was so busy getting the house sold, a granny flat built on my property, & getting her moved & settled, I didn't have much time to miss him.

When mum died 18 years later I suddenly missed him very much, & do so more every day. When I have a problem I often wonder, "what would dad do"? It always helps.

Dear Hassie,

Thank You for sharing your dad's story. He sounds
like a wonderful man. I grew up with horses. And
can understand your father's love of them. Looking
after your mother was a wonderful time for you to do.
And she must have been very happy to know she was so loved.
Take care.

There are many fathers that need to be remembered.
Not only our own, but those in the front-lines, that
have given up their lives for the people of this
nation. From policemen who put their lives at risk on
a daily basis, to soldiers fighting in wars, to firemen,
keeping us safe, and many, many more.

Let us remember them, and their families, and count our
blessings. That's why I gave the poem at the beginning
of this discussion. We have so much to be thankful for
in this country. We all come together in times of
difficulty and stress - to help a mate. That's the
Australian way.

My father grew up in Singapore and fled as a youngster on one of the last boats out before the fall to the Japanese. His father and grandfather were taken prisoner and while his father survived his grandfather died.

My dad paid his own way through Uni and went on to found a large company before dying at 58. As he worked hard, I didn't get to see him much but knew that I could rely on him for no BS advice as he was an expert at framing an issue and defining the alternatives. He didn't tell me what I wanted to know but what I needed to know.

Dear Shadow Miinister,

Your father gave you the greatest gift anyone could
give to another person. He believed in you.
Thank You for sharing your story with us.

Dear Paul, Hassie, and Shadow Minister,

It looks like this topic is not going to get
any further responses - which is a bit disappointing.
However Thanks to you all for taking the time and
making the effort to contribute. It just goes to show
that everyone does have a story to tell - and I was
hoping to hear some more wonderful stories that would lift
all of our spirits. In any case - Thank You once again.
Your efforts were greatly appreciated.

Take care.
Stay safe.

Thanks foxy

Have a nice weekend

Dear Shadow Minister,

You too.

Take care.
Stay safe.

Dear Foxy,

For some of us, the topic of our fathers can be a bit touchy. I have only one memory of my father, from when I was maybe six. He really had a bastard of a life: from what I can piece together, his parents were rural workers from Gulgong who moved into Redfern around 1900; a baby sister fell into the copper and was scalded to death, and it seems his mother abandoned her kids after that. So did his father.

I think he might have been raised by his elderly Irish grandmother and her brother who got him a job in the NSW Railways. So from around 1925 up to 1954 or so, he was a fireman, a stoker. During the War, he was on the train transporting armaments from Sydney to Brisbane. I think he became an engine-driver around 1954. Of course, what with one thing and another, he was a heavy drinker. According to Ancestry.com, he died around 1994 at Laurieton.

That was about it. My step-father was very different, a very quiet, gentle bloke, never drank or smoked or even swore (except, when we were driving from NSW up to Darwin through Queensland buill-dust and the gear-box went, in between Cloncurry and Mt Isa, he did say under his breath, 'Bugger.' Fortunately, within minutes, a prospector appeared magically from over the hill and towed us into Mt Isa - of course, we didn't say anything to him in case he vanished.)

But our mum was the rock. I don't think she ever said that she loved us but we knew of course. Those were different times.

Fond regards,

Joe

Dear Joe,

Thank You so much for sharing your story.

I can't even begin to imagine the difficult times
of your early life and what you must have faced
as a child - or for that matter, the hardships that
your father faced as well as the demons. Yet look at you
today - and the wonderful human being you've turned out to
be. Your mother must have been a strong woman - for your
turning out so well.

I didn't realize that this was going to be a touchy subject.
But I do appreciate your willingness to share with us
despite that.

Thank You.

Take care.

Dear Joe,

Do you remember much about Parramatta growing up in
Sydney?

Did you ever happen to visit the old pub opposite
Parramatta railway station? I can't recall its
name but it's where my father used to play snooker
after work. I tried to get a hold of a picture -
but I think it's been demolished. Parramatta today
is totally different.

Dear Foxy,

It's strange but I don't recall ever going to Parramatta - Strathfield and Homebush, but mainly Bankstown in early childhood, especially to the pictures on Saturdays. In any case, I would have been a bit too young to play snooker ;)

Love,

Joe

Dear Joe,

I wasn't suggesting that you played snooker.
I just thought you may remember the name of the
pub - which was very famous in its day - if you were
ever in Parramatta. I'll keep searching though - it's
got to be listed somewhere in the history of the city.
Thanks anyway.

Foxy,

The Commercial Hotel on the corner of Hassall and Station Streets ?

Joe

Dear Joe,

Thanks for that. I will check it out.
It was out in front of the hotel where dad fell
on his way to work that hot summer's day.
He was with a friend
who called an ambulance. Dad died in the ambulance
on his way to Parramatta Hospital. I was just wondering
if that hotel was still standing or had been demolished.
Anyway, I'll check it out.

Thank You.

Dear Joe,

I think its was the - Argyle Street Hotel at -
111 - 127 Argyle Street Parramatta. It's been
demolished.

The commercial Hotel is on the wrong side of the
railway station.

What a pity ! If I came back to Sydney for a visit, we could have had a game of snooker there :)

Joe

Foxy,

Try this:

http://publocation.com.au/pubs/nsw/parramatta/argyle-street-hotel-parramatta

Same address, different pub :(

Hey, Parramatta is quite a big city now .......

Joe

Dear Joe,

Thank You.

I'd love a game of snooker.

To all the Father's out there - HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

Enjoy your day!