Good, good Father

I had a good father. Some of you may not have been as fortunate. In our current society fathers are in short supply. Good fathers are a rare commodity. I’d like to tell you about mine. He was the fourth of five children. He had two older brothers and one older sister. His other sister was the youngest.

All born in the 1920s or 30s Their names fit the era. Clyde was the oldest, then Pauline. We called her Anie, pronounced with a long a. I never heard why we called her this. Raymond was next followed by Evan, my dad, and Virginia.

I have noticed in recent years that our younger generations are taking up dad’s name again. My brother was the only other Evan I had known of for most of my life. When I mentioned this to a cousin’s wife that their son had the same name as my dad He was surprised to learn what dad’s name was. He was a third cousin and had never met my dad.

Dad was always doing things for someone else in the family. A story that my mom’s sister Rosie told often was of her son Jeff being asked by his first teacher if he had a father. His dad left shortly after he learned they would soon have five children. I don’t know when they got a divorce, just that when Jeff started school, he had never met his dad.

Jeff attempted to explain that he did not but that he had what the teacher understood as an uncle in heaven. When asked about this my aunt explained that he was speaking of her brother-in-law, Evan.

Dad was close to all his family. We went to Anie’s house after school when my mother started working at Zenith. She would often give us toasted Cheerios for a snack. Before that, she worked evenings at different restaurants.

We often went to Paul and Virginia’s house in the evenings or on the weekends. Their daughters were some of the first girls I dated. I went with Loretta to a Valentine’s Day banquet at their church and would ask Bonita to go to movies or plays with me when I wasn’t dating anyone.

For one winter when I was in grade school the city of Springfield, MO experienced a natural gas outage during a very cold spell. We were advised to find an alternative way of heating our homes. Electric heaters were not common at that time.

Grandma and Grandpa Kensinger lived about three blocks away from us. They had a wood stove in their living room. I don’t remember if it was the only heat source in the house. Most of us gathered at their house for that night except for Paul and Virginia and their girls. That upset me.

I’ve spoken of Mel and Pauline’s son Russ and his brother Jim before. Remember, Russ sang the song “Running Bare.” We often had them at our house or went to their homes to play cards. We played Old Maid or Crazy Eights while they played more adult games like Canasta and Rummy.

I remember crying the first time I saw the original “Cars” movie at a theatre with my wife and kids. There is a scene where Mater tells Lightening about the interstate bypassing Radiator Springs, and they show some of the cars on a hill overlooking the construction.

I saw my Dad, brothers, Uncle Clyde, and his boys standing behind a gas station across the street from their home on Highway 66. We were watching the earth-moving equipment prepare the roadbed for Interstate 44. That was the first time I could remember that story.

Uncle Raymond was my Dad’s boss for most of his adult life. They worked for what is now Springfield Underground. My Uncle was called Ken, and he managed the trucking company and warehouse. My Dad was a truck driver, and everyone called him little brother.

In my career, I have worked in positions where I have been around many truckers. When I signed my name for deliveries of our freight pick-ups some would ask me if Ken was my dad. My response was always, “No, my Dad was little brother.” They all knew him but very few knew what his name really was.

I hope you have fond memories of your father and that you can join me in calling him a good father. For you men, strive to be that for your children. Remember dads, that Counselors tell us that most women who had positive relationships with their fathers have an easier time finding and keeping a husband. I give Mom and Dad the credit for teaching me how to be what my girls need.

©Copyright 2025 by Charles Kensinger