My Father, The Anti Hero… part 1

When I was a kid, there were only a few undeniable  facts in my life.  1- voltron reigned king, 2-I loved food, and 3- my dad was never around.  My father seemed to be in the house only for a few moments a week. I can honestly  say to this day that I don’t really know if he ever officially lived in our house . It always felt like,” hey! Here is my dad who is actually just my older friend that takes me on fast car rides and gets me thai food while his dry cleaning is getting done.”  Dad always seemed to be wearing lots of heavy jewelry and was always in a nice suit.   He would sometimes take me to business meetings with him that seemed more like a secret society gathering than a meeting.   Shady characters, shady places, shady deals.  I knew my father was a business man, but not the kind I would ever want to deal with. He owned various car, boat, and muffler shops throughout the southeast.  I recall one shop called DynaFlight, which was a speed shop for racing boats.  Dynaflight was downtown Fort Walton on the way to the sound(the inter coastal waterway).  I remember this shop because it represented the prime of my fathers life as a business man, or whatever he was.  Even as a kid I knew shady deals and wrong doings were happening behind closed doors at  Dynaflight.  There were always other business associates around that could make  me feel 1 inch tall, something only a greedy business man can accomplish.  But beyond the shady deals and shady places,  was a man I called Dad, my anti-hero. I say my anti-hero because I knew I never wanted to be like him, but I loved him.  He had charisma, he could talk to anyone, he was feared.  To this day, if I wear a black coat and cowboy boots, I’m almost guaranteed dirty looks at any place where old timers that knew my dad would go.  I supposedly look just like him now. He always had a beard, and I have a beard. He was tall, I am tall. He was big, and I am big. We share a love for a good pair of boots and a nice blazer.  Its weird to look so similar to someone for whom you are so different.  My mom would always say to me when I was younger and acting like a shit, “That’s just like your father.”  At a young age I didn’t care, but as I got older, it became more real to me daily. I never wanted to be like my dad. He had the gift of intimidation, or rather the curse of intimidation.  Dad had no reservations about fighting someone, or threatening them to fight if he didn’t get his way.  I had friends when I was younger who’s parent wouldn’t let me stay over because of who my father was.  I guess they didn’t want to get caught up in anything strange.  My mom caught the worst of it.  My dad was not a faithful man. He has children all over and had many mistresses.  Its hard to understand why or how a woman like my mother, who is the most giving and honest person I know, could end up with such an outlaw, but she did, and I am here because of it.  Dad taught me exactly how I didn’t want to be with women.  My father  was a bit notorious, always being watched by the authorities. He always had a reputation for being a bad boy. So eventually, the authorities would catch up with him.  Dynaflight would become the demise of my father’s reign as a powerful business man.  His partners from all the years of business  would all come forward to rat him out.   My dad lost all his money, businesses, and friends. He was indited for  fraud. This was a huge blow to the family. My father had every one’s money tied up, including his parents and my mother. My grandparents lost their home on the water, and my mom went bankrupt.  As a kid, I had no clue what this really meant, but I would come to learn fast.  My grandparents took it the hardest I think. My grandfather, Julius stated,” I will never see my son go to jail” and he didn’t. Julius died two weeks before my fathers sentencing.  My dad never got to say goodbye. This was even harder considering that Julius and my dad were not close.  Having no closure with his father plagued my dad for the rest of his life.  My dad was sentenced to 15 years in prison.  I spent many weekends, Christmas’s, birthdays, etc,  at the prison visiting with my dad. It was a surreal experience. You would be amazed at all the different kinds of people in prison. Some crooks, some in the wrong place at wrong time kind of thing, some musicians, politicians, lawyers, doctors. You often think of prison as a place only for the bad,  but there were a lot of good men in there that I met, men that would stay friends with my dad and family for the rest of our lives.

My mother and father had split up a short time before his arrest and Dad had started dating his secretary. This was super weird and even I knew it at a young age.  Mom and Dad still had business ties.  Mom had lost everything because of a man she wasn’t even with anymore.  His secretary was a good woman, sad to see her get dragged into this, but my dad had a way about him, a power.  About fives years into my dads sentence, Dad and his secretary got married.  Marriage in jail? What the hell?  I had gotten older by this point and this new marriage was hard to swallow.  But what could you do? Nothing. You just have to take what you are given sometimes.  I think my mom was still battling her heartbreak from my dad. She always loved him with all of her heart.  My mom’s love was unconditional love. It was hard to see her go through even more pain when he remarried.  We kept at it, going to visit, trying to go on with our lives as a normal family would. My mom was constantly struggling to make money for us. She had two, three, sometimes four jobs just to buy us food and keep a place for us to live. I get butterflies to this day thinking about the hell she had to endure just for me and my sister and uncle.  She is the strongest person I’ve ever met.  Years passed and finally dad was moved to a half-way house.  I was in my teens now, and had grown my own opinion and attitude towards the whole father son thing.   The half-way house allowed me to see my dad a few days a week outside the prison walls. It was cool, you could tell he was trying to make up for lost time and that he had a life changing experience in prison.  I think that’s what prison is really about, helping someone become a better person and not  just punishment.  After a year of half-way house, Dad was set free on probation. I don’t know for sure, but I think he had served 8 years of his 15 year sentence.  I remember him calling to say he was out.  I was happy but I knew my mom was worried. I think in some ways his imprisonment gave my mom some relief.  No harm could be done while he was in there.  But this was our reality, he was out.  Years went by and I saw my dad a good bit. He had started a custom car business that never took off, but he was a craftsman.  People always loved his cars and trucks. His attention to detail was insane.  The years rolled on and on, and we had a semi normal relationship. He took interest in my interests, like football and music.  I think it’s every American father’s dream to see their son play football.  I think it’s hilarious but it made him so proud.  The peak of my father’s approval came when I got a scholarship for football.   I had received a full scholarship to the University of Houston Cougars. This is a little disappointing for a man who’s pride and joy was the crimson tide, but none the less, he was proud.  I spent two years at Houston playing football, before I decided to leave college to pursue music.  I was a bad student with learning disabilities, and playing football wasn’t my dream come true.  When I left college my father was destroyed. His all American son became the all American bum, but for me, life was finally starting.  When I came home after dropping out, my father was enraged at me.  He couldn’t understand how I could not play. I don’t think he even cared about the academic part of it.  So dad got mad and we did not speak for a few years. To be continued………….