MY HERO

The word "HERO" is tossed around quite loosely these days, and it seems as if a day can't go by without a dozen or so new so called heroes appearing on the scene.

For as long as I can remember, I have had only one hero my entire life. Someone I looked up too, and admired in all that he accomplished and the peoples lives that he affected. This man was my father, but most importantly, he was my "Dad"

He was born on a farm in Lithuania, and he and his brothers all craftsmen, rose to a bit of prominence in their small town, as they plied their trade as carpenters. But World War II interceded, and seeing the writing on the wall, that hard times were coming, my father packed what he could in a buggy and took my mother, brother and I on a trek across Europe, not knowing what lay ahead.

We ended up in various displaced persons camps throughout Germany, as my father would go into the towns, not speaking the language, he would get jobs to take care of his family. After six years, we finally got the notice, we were going to America.

We got to Chicago on a Saturday afternoon, and on Sunday they had a party to welcome us. On Monday, my dad was at the stockyards applying for a job.
I remember the conversations at the dining room tables as friends from the camps gathered and enjoyed what were now considered feasts on Sundays as they drank and questioned each other about their work and pay. Finding out someone was making a penny or two an hour more, quickly meant a change in jobs, as they bounced from one butcher company to the next, in search of the American riches.

Even tho exhausted from a hard days work, it was very important for him to go to night school, to learn the language of this new country, and most important, become a citizen.

With only a third grade education under his belt, his wisdom and knowledge surpassed most scholars, and being small in stature he toward like a giant and was strong as an ox.

He taught me many lessons about life, with his stories and fables. His greatest gift was knowing how to give a compliment and making it sincere. As an example, I was working with him at a construction site and was very proud of the job I had done trimming and hanging cabinets in one of the rooms. I called to him to see this majestic job that I had done. He entered the room, pulled out his pipe and filled it slowly. He lit his pipe and slowly walked around the room, running his hand slowly across joints, taking a puff here and there, and not saying anything. What seemed like an eternity, he finally spoke. No it wasn't the words I wanted to hear, on what a wonderful job I had done. Rather it was a simple "someday you will be a fine carpenter", but I could see from the glee in his eyes, how proud he was off me.

Then there was the time I had borrowed some money off of him. One day as I sat and talked to him, I asked why he hadn't mentioned anything about paying him back. It was a simple, "if you are good and honest, you will pay me back, if not you won't, even if I ask for it'. Therefore I learned a lesson about you and will know never to lend you anything again. I couldn't pay him back fast enough. A few little words, but such a big lesson.

He knew the appropriate time to say things, so the message got across. Such as "I don't mind you drinking my whiskey, but don't water it down". Trying to be smart as a teen and putting in shots of water so he wouldn't notice any of it gone.

He would drive me crazy, for he seemed to have all the answers. No matter the problem, he would always seemed to find the solution. And he always knew whenever I had a problem. It was always "the back of my neck is hurting, and you know two heads are better then one to solve a problem". And it was such a relief, when we did solve it.

My greatest regret in life, is that he left me so long ago, and those that I love deeply never got the pleasure of meeting him and enjoyed him as much as I. I love you dad, always have and always will. Rest in peace, for you truly are my HERO.