When Father’s Day comes around, as a child you have three options:
- You make your Dad something heartfelt and adorable. If you do this, you are either under age 12 or your family generally acknowledges that you are The Slow One.
- You mail your Dad his 387th tie and/or a card that pushes the limits of how sappy you can be without puking. (This is where dads really get screwed. At least moms get brunch.)
- You wake up on Sunday and think, “Oh *&^%. That’s today?”
As ever, we at Parthenon are committed to pushing past tradition to something even more American: competition. Thus, we all attempted to out-dad each other by serving up our dads’ best moments.
Funny, heroic, inspiring or plain badass, these stories show why our dads are our heroes. They also, incidentally, prove our dads are better than your dads. (Why there’s a bumper sticker targeting honors students and not wimpy dads, we don’t know.)
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So step into the back room, light a cigar and grab yourself a tumbler of scotch as we present:
The Dads of Parthenon
Carl Reaves
Betsy’s Dad
My (step)dad is 92. He was on the first tank that rolled into Hiroshima after the bomb was dropped. He cleared debris and built airstrips so American planes could land. And he’s the nicest person you’ll ever meet.
Editor’s note: Gauntlet thrown.
Joe Hills, Sr.
Joe Hills, Jr.’s Dad (who shall heretofore be known as “Junyah”)
My dad owned a trucking terminal, and he used to bolt a basketball backboard and hoop to a pallet for my brothers and me to play with during the summer. He’d forklift the makeshift goal up to (but never exactly) regulation height. It was a lot of fun, but the real lesson was that you can put anything on a pallet — the hard part is getting it where you want it to go.
Paul Akin
Akin’s Brantley’s Dad
I was 5 years old the first time I saw E.T., and the scene where he’s all shriveled and dying in the bathtub scared the crap out of me. I refused to go to sleep, and my dad stayed up and played checkers with me until I finally passed out… 2 days later. I don’t remember much of those 48 hours, but I imagine a terrified, sleep-deprived, highly paranoid 5-year-old might not be the most relaxing person to spend your weekend with. I still hate that movie.
Chuck Hobbs
Andy’s Dad
My dad is a surgeon. Growing up, you don’t think much about what your parents do when they go to work — you go to school and they go off somewhere else for the day. One day I was introduced to a friend’s uncle, and when I said my name he asked, “Is your dad Chuck Hobbs? Your dad saved my wife’s life.”
At that moment it struck me that my dad went to work every day and could be faced with matters of life and death. When I told him I met someone whose life he had saved, he shrugged his shoulders, like, “Yeah…that’s my job.”
Don Hutchins
Candace’s Dad
My dad taught me to snow ski when I was 3 and we’ve been skiing together ever since. He’s a natural leader, teacher and always fun to be around.
Editor’s note: I still cannot ski, so 3-year-old Candace is better than 31-year-old me.
Gerald Thurmond
Laurabeth’s Dad
Before hunting season every year my dad would let him make shotgun shells from start to finish. This included adding shot, wad, powder, primer and finally pulling down the massive lever to clamp off the top (I always needed help with this step). He loved showing me how to do something, and I loved feeling like I was actually helping out. And doing something badass in the process.
Editor’s note: When you read the name “Gerald Thurmond,” did you not know this entry was going to end with badassery and firearms?
Herb Morris
Original Joe’s Dad
My father was a civil engineer. His handiwork includes many of TVA’s bridges throughout the Southeast. This indicates a love of both math and heights, two things where he and I have little common ground. Where we did interact early on was in our love of reading.
He encouraged me to join the local library’s summer reading club, but I was horrified to learn that, before he’d sign the slip of paper bearing testament to the volumes I’d completed, I would need to give him a book report. “Not a summary; I know what the books are about,” he said, “but what you thought of it, and why you did or did not like it.”
Exercises in critical thinking are not every 8-year-old’s summertime cup of tea, but I think he’d already figured out that I liked writing – even on command. So what could have been a rush through all the “Hardy Boys” adventures to win a prize became the ability to read for pleasure, but also comprehend and dissect good writing. It also let two people who liked each other, but didn’t have many shared interests, share insights. My dad knows a lot of ways to build bridges.
Rick Pogemiller
Matt P.’s Dad
My dad was apparently quite the quarterback in high school, and got a scholarship to play football in college. As the legend goes, he was carried off the field by teammates after winning their final high school game in an undefeated season. From what my aunts have told me, it was very Rudy-esque moment, sans the strange janitor guy in the stands cheering him on.
Ashley White
My father taught me never let someone waste your time twice. Benefits of the doubt should be earned. If someone hurts you, you can’t keep looking beyond that because you love them or really want it to work. They have to respect and love you enough to change.
You have to stop wanting to see the good in people and just see them for who they have shown you they are (cc: Dr. Maya Angelou). If it’s someone you don’t like, walk away. You can’t continue to give anybody the constant opportunity to hurt you, including your own father. This doesn’t make you bitter, it makes you better. You have the power to change your story.
Editor’s note: Mic drop.
Art Sweid
Nancy’s Dad
When I went to college, my dad offered me these words of wisdom: Don’t take any classes before 9 a.m.
Editor’s note: Truer words, Mr. Sweid. Truer words.