Of Fathers and Writing Books

Dad with The Inmate in 1958.

Dad with me in 1958.

My father died in 2021 fully unvaccinated. He had been declining for a year and died at home with my sister, brother-in-law and myself at his side. He was 89. Mom died in 2019.

I didn’t see much of my Dad growing up except on summer family vacations which were the highlights of our childhood (I have three siblings). He was very supportive of my high school athletics, attending every football game, basketball game and many track meets. He didn’t talk much, worked very hard and retired at 53.

He and my mom loved the outdoors something that they passed down to all of us.

I want to relate two stories about him that have stuck with me over the years.

My Dad was born and raised in Wisconsin and joined the Navy in the early 50s. He was assigned to a Haskell-Class Attack Transport, the U.S.S. Pickaway. My Dad always referred to it as a destroyer. He served during the Korean war. As it happened one of the Navy’s top boxers was assigned to the Pickaway and my Dad said he always had problems finding people to spar with him.

Dad had never boxed in his life. One day on the ship when this accomplished boxer was looking for people to spar with him and no one would, my Dad said, “What the heck, I’ll do it.” I’m only surmising that’s what he said, but I can guarantee you it was not “What the hell.” I never heard my Dad cuss. Not once.

So my Dad got in the ring with this guy who promptly broke his nose and that was that. But I’ve always loved that story…my Dad stepped up when no one else would.

Boxing match on the USS Pickaway circa early 1950's

That’s not my Dad in the ring, but he took the photo. Not sure of the exact date…probably 1953, 54 or 55.

Fast forward maybe 40 or 50 years and my Mom and Dad are attending a small church in Southern California. My sister related this story to me. As often happens in small churches it’s hard to get enough volunteers for various things. At this particular meeting they were trying to secure someone to sing a solo. No one volunteered. What you should know about my Dad is that he did not sing well, something he passed down to myself for sure, I can’t speak for my siblings. But my Dad, seeing there were no volunteers, said he’d do it. There have probably been very few solos sung in church of that caliber. But again, I love that my Dad saw this need and when no one else would fill it, he did.

My Next Book

My Dad wrote lots of letters to the editor of our local paper and always told me that I should read a lot, though he never expanded on what I should read. Nevertheless I started reading seriously in my early 20s and started writing sometime after that.

With the rousing success of my first book I’m Nobody. Who are You? Can we Save the World? (22 copies sold to date), I have embarked on writing a 2nd one. My first book preached to the choir. I wasn’t trying to convince anyone that the world is being abused by a bunch of psychos (readers already knew this). I was encouraging people to get involved in some way in this fight for freedom and against tyranny that we’re in.

In my next book (I’m not sure of a title…maybe Tales from the Pandemic), I’m hoping to persuade people, who may be on the fence, that something is drastically wrong. But how to convince others of this?

Some time ago I read a book by C.J. Hopkins, The Rise of the New Normal Reich. In that book he writes a lot about the “Covid Cult” and the difficulty of breaking through to people who are a part of it. The section of the book that really stuck with me was this:

So we need to adopt a different strategy. We need to make the monster show itself, not to those of us who can already see it, but to the New Normal masses, the Covidian Cultists.

So my idea for the book, based on the thoughts of C.J. Hopkins, is to start with those things we all saw and all experienced to point out the absurdity of them, for example the mask protocols in restaurants during the pandemic. In this way I hope to slowly unmask the monster. I want to draw readers of any persuasion through the first half of the book nodding in agreement so that they might be willing to accept the second half about the unsafe vaccines, sudden deaths and the totalitarianism being implemented by leaders and institutions we should not trust.

The first half has been difficult, but I’m continually reminding myself that in this section of the book I’m trying journey along with my readers, regardless of their current positions, through the absurdities we all experienced and, for the most part, can all agree on, for example, those crazy directional arrows in the grocery aisles. Halfway through I plan to use this quote as an epigraph to the 2nd section:

If you’re reading this, you’ve gotten out. And if you’ve come this far, maybe you’re willing to come a little further.

— Letter from Andy Dufresne to Red, The Shawshank Redemption

Like the first book, I’ll have memes and faux posters. There will also be fiction, short essays and poetry. There may be other things.

I’m hoping it might be a book to give to a relative or friend.

So that’s what I’m going to try to do. Am I the best person to attempt this? I’m not sure, probably not. But I’m going to do it anyway.

I think Dad would be pleased with that.

Here’s a rough draft of one of the poems from the first half of the book:

I Wore the Mask

In the restaurant I wore the mask,
It seemed to me a futile task.

Those who sat had faces free,
I wore mine so I could pee.

I asked the waiter “What’s the deal?”
“Following orders,” was his spiel.

I’m not so sure I understand,
It seems like part of one big plan.

When I die I’ll ask the Lord,
Why the masks on all the horde?

He may reply or he may not,
He’s likely tired of this plot.



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