My Life - Chapter 3 - Dad

This weekly blog post is my response to a weekly question that arrives by email every Monday.  This week's question:  What was your dad like when you were a child?

When I think about Dad and the things we did together, I also think of mom.  One of the big things Dad and I did while growing up was visit state capitols and we wouldn't have made those trips unless they had her OK.

More about the capitals later; I want to start at the beginning, the first time I remember Dad affecting my life.  

We stopped in Pittsfield, Illinois while traveling to Springfield as part
of our second trip to see state capitals in Illinois, Missouri, and Kansas.  
11/8/1974 dwm photo

We were at a hotel.  I think it was in Nebraska, which is where my aunt (my mom's sister) went to college when she stayed with us, so I think this life-changing event happened before we dropped her off or on our way home.  We were by the pool.  I was in a small wading pool close to the real pool.

Next thing I remember is sinking into the deeper water when a hand grabbed mine and pulled me out.  Dad saved me!

I don't remember when we started fishing, but it likely began when we joined his parents during their summer vacation on Lake Chetek. 

When it was the two of us we'd throw a line in the Rock River hand-molding wet Wheaties cereal around fish hooks in the pursuit of Carp (we never caught one).  A more fun outing was at a small dam where we caught Bullhead as fast as we could throw a line in the water.  Less fun was when I accidently locked the keys in the trunk when retrieving something we needed to the lakeshore (it took Mom an hour to drive over to unlock the trunk).

Dad on the steps of the Colorado Capitol just
a few feet higher than 1 mile above sea level.
Note the marker on the face of lowest step.
3/22/1976 dwm photo

1973 was the year we made our first of seven trips which ultimately took us to 30 capitals.  We toured the building and usually stopped in the Secretary of State's office because we learned they gave away cool stuff to visitors.  I collected flags from each state and we brought a collector plate home to mom from every state.

Other than our final trip to New England's six states, we drove to the rest.  I took notes on the tour.  Each night at the motel we'd decide which interesting facts and trivia to include in the scrapbook.  Dad wrote them in while I placed postcards on the pages.  

While seeing state governments were our objective we checked out other places - like the Hershey Chocolate factory in Pennsylvania; Lookout Mountain and the Coors Brewery in Boulder; a football game at Kinnick Stadium; and several of the Smithsonian museums when we spent four days in Washington.

Between stops he let me navigate.  We talked and sang as we drove.  It's difficult to describe what we sang, but they weren't tunes you heard on the radio.  "She'll be coming around the Mountain," "Mares eat Oats," and "This Land is Our Land" were in heavy rotation as we drove the AMC Rebel or Ambassador over back roads and state highways.

Dad's looking at the U.S. Capital when we
visited June 29, 1978.
dwm photo

At home one of my jobs was helping Dad around the house.  Dad could do anything.  He knew plumbing, electricity, and carpentry.  If he didn't know how to do something, he could figure it out.  Sometimes he even read the directions.  Years later, when he came to my house to help with projects, we knew it wasn't a Mossner job until we took 3 trips to the hardware store.  

There are several skills I inherited from Dad.  Unfortunately, his handyman skills weren't part of the package and I never "got" math and science like he did.

Dad worked as a metallurgist.  He earned his Bachelor's Degree at the University of Illinois.  

I didn't learn until after his death that he earned a scholarship which paid for four years of tuition.  At the time each county awarded a scholarship to one person from each county and Dad won for his.  

He loved his work.  In addition to design and ferreting out solutions to problems, he frequently joined the sales team on trips to their customers, like  Ford Motor Company, because he explained technical concepts in ways they understood. 

At the end of every work day he called home to let mom know he was on his way.  It was a 10 minute trip which was when she finished supper.  We usually sat at the table together shortly after he arrived.  After we ate it was time for devotions and beginning at a young age I had a role doing some of the reading.  During my middle-school years, we moved devotions to after breakfast because basketball practice meant I was gone during supper.

Some times he went back to work after we ate or returned on Saturday morning to finish a project and he'd take me along.  It's where I was introduced to early versions of the desktop computer with its flashing green/yellow dots and rudimentary games.  Occasionally, if we were there a long time, he let me buy something from the vending machine.  My favorite treat was the Suzy Q.

On our trip west we stopped at this spot in
South Dakota which marked the center of the U.S.
8/10/1977 dwm photo

For fun he liked puzzles and math problems (whose son am I?) to exercise his mind. 

I think that's where his appreciation for puns was born.  Geographically, it may have hatched while he was in Punnsylvania.  As I got older we both enjoyed pun contests.

His love for words was most evident in his poetry.  It was during his 10 minute daily commute that he wrote a holiday poem for my classroom party called "Bobby the Bug," when I was twelve.

Mom and Dad volunteered together and separately at church.  He also volunteered in associations related to his profession.  He took Mom and me along to some of those conventions, including one between first and second grade held at the Waldorf Astoria in New York City.

At church he served in a variety of roles and was active in a Lutheran Fraternal organization which set up social events and fundraisers to help those in need.  He demonstrated how guys could be involved and find ways to help.  I'm sure it's what inspired me to give the message at youth-lead services during the big basketball weekend at St. Paul Lutheran Church and School in eighth and ninth grade. 

He quietly encouraged my path as a volunteer.  When it came to my first paying jobs, he was sometimes more direct.

I thought delivering the Sunday Milwaukee Journal would be a good way to make money.  A month into the experience I didn't like it.  I didn't care for the early morning hours.  I didn't like collecting money from my customers, and I didn't like that most of it went to the paper.  I wanted to quit.

Dad said I couldn't quit.  It was my responsibility to stick with the job for a year and then decide.  I did and quit when the year was up.  His lesson stuck and helped me grind through some rough early days in later jobs.

At home, sometimes we'd shoot hoops or play catch with a baseball or football.  On trips we'd listen to the Milwaukee Brewer or Green Bay Packer game on the radio.  I have vivid memories of the first baseball game he took me to see.

The two of us enjoying a Brewer game
in Pittsburgh.  5/31/2006 dwm photo
 My parents told me I was the one who turned them into Packer fans because their games were the only thing that made me quiet when I was a colicky baby. 

 When I moved out, we still enjoyed games and talking sports.  After heading off to college I was usually a long way from home.  We lived near each other twice.  First in my hometown of Janesville when I worked at WISC-TV and again when I was at Lutheran High School of Indianapolis and my parents lived in Carmel

 While in Indy we attended several Brewer games when they played the Reds and met at the local Buffalo Wild Wings to watch the Packers.  

 Like his Dad, my Dad worked past beyond normal retirement age and still enjoyed his full-time job when a stroke took his life in 2012 just a couple days before we had planned to see the Brewers play in Cincinnati.

Comments