It was Twenty Years Ago Today.....

  It Was Twenty Years Ago Today......

My father died twenty years ago this week. He was in the hospital with a quarter-sized cancer on his lung. We were hoping for a successful chemotherapy treatment, but he had a heart attack before it could begin. So what got him was a combination of  Kent cigarettes and his own hyper-tense personality. He was 62.

I'll never forget how I got the news. My new wife Gigi and I were moving from an apartment to a house we were building. She was pregnant with our second child Ally. Landon our first, was not yet two.

We didn't have that much furniture, so I was doing the move with the help of a guy from a day labor pool.  His name was Dave.

He was stocky, with a 2-day growth, and a mottled complexion that made his face looked bruised. His hair was mid-ear with a shock that drooped over his forehead. He looked around 55, but was probably 40. Dave said he lived in the men's shelter. He complained that the food was fatty or full of sugar.

"They give you anything that's donated. We get a lot of supermarket cakes. They figure it fills us up."

As I was loading our couch onto the back of the truck, Gigi ran up. She was in tears.

"Your father just died! I am so sorry!" And she held me.

I just stood there.

After about a minute or so, I looked at Dave through my tears. This guy was a drunk. Probably a bad one. He was fighting his disease every day. Living on the streets or in a shelter if he stayed sober. I am sure the 50 bucks or whatever I was going to pay him meant a lot, but he looked at me and said, "I understand if you need to not work right now."

I looked at him again.

"No, let's finish." Gigi got into gear preparing to go to comfort my mother, and to be with my brother and sister.

Dave and I drove to the new house in silence for about ten minutes, then he asked, "What did your daddy die of?"

"Cancer from cigarettes. And probably stress," I answered.

Dave nodded. He kept his Kools in his pocket for the rest of the move.

I learned later my father's heavy drinking made the poison from the cigarettes even more virulent. Alcohol and tobacco combine to kill you even faster. From a health standpoint, the difference between my father and Dave was just a matter of degree.

My father was not an easy person to relate to. You couldn't tell him anything. I guess he figured if the Nazis couldn't kill him, neither could Lorillard or R.J. Reynolds. He was wrong.

I miss him though. For years later, every so often I would have a question about a plumbing problem, or a banking mystery, and I would reach for the phone, only to realize he was not there. All old habits are hard to break.

I am sometimes mad at him. He never met Ally, or John. Never saw my first house, or heard me with Sheri, or left my mother with any insurance. We all missed out on a lot. I am very thankful to have had such a wonderful radio career. It has made our lives better.

About a year after he died I was picking up some dinner at a restaurant in Charlotte called Alexander Michaels. While waiting in the bar, I had a beer. A woman I used to work with saw me and came over to ask about my daughters.

"They are so much fun," I replied smiling, as I lit the cigarette between my lips and inhaled the poison.

She stared at me for a moment and said, "Don't you want to see them graduate high school?"

That was the last cigarette I ever smoked. Twenty years ago, next year.

Comments

[Morgan]

That really was touching, Bob. I'm used to spending each morning with you between 7 and 8:30 (which is sometimes the most fun part of my often-dull day), but this kind of raw, untapped emotion is different from your daily banter with Sheri and callers. I have been fortunate not to lose anyone close to me to cancer or any other horrible disease, but I am watching my boyfriend's mother slowly deteriorate from smoking a pack+ a day. For that reason (and others) I am forever crusading against smoking because of it's devastating effects on the body. Where I live we have specific and beneficial smoking bans in public places, which many are against as the tobacco industry is prevalent in the area. Congratulations to you for your strength in quitting and pursuing a healthy lifestyle, and for the positive image you're portraying to your family. You have a loyal listener/reader in me (and you have a gift, write more often!).

[Tina]

I came here today to read your story about Ally, but the one about your Dad made me cry. Good for you that you stepped away from the poison. Both my parents are in their late 60's and both smoke every day. I know I will have to bury them one day too soon, because of the smoking. It makes me sad to know that their toxic habit means more to them than the pain us kids will have to endure when we loose them prematurely. Believe me I have tried, and they won't listen. My Dad worked for RJR from 17 years old to retirement. When we were growing up, we’d complain [of course] about the air quality. Dad would tell us that tobacco put the roof over our heads, the food on our table, and the clothes on our backs. [ie shut up] I never understood why he felt he had to personally support RJR. I work for a company that makes parts for Caterpillar tractors and generators, but I don't own one of either. Anyway, once again, GOOD for you for doing the right thing! And good for you for telling everyone what the right thing is. If one person reads your story and listens, you will have effectively saved their whole family a lot of misery. I wish it could be my Momma & Daddy. God Bless you!

[Meredith]

Reading the comments on this entry and saw the third one was from my Dad. He has been smoke free since he read your blog! He has been able to see my sister and I graduate from high school, college, and get married. Now hopefully he will be able to do the same with his future grandchildren. Thanks for writing this Bob, you don't know how much it means.

[Mark Anderson]

Hey Bob,

I am an everyday listener and I really think y'alls show is the best on all of radio!! I can relate to your story but in a different way. The last conversation I had with my dad was about smoking and drinking. I said I wasn't gonna. It wasn't 5 hours later that he passed--very suddenly. He was quite fine when we had that conversation. I appreciate your account and it makes me pull into focus the exact events of that night (almost 3 months ago now). It was the second night I was going to have spent at home in a year and before 7pm I knew there would be no sleeping that night. Anyways, I really want to thank you for your blog and for the show!! Have a wonderful evening.

--M

[Alice]

Bob, Thank you for sharing this part of your life. I hope reading this blog affects my husband's parents as it has just affected me. We are not smokers but my husband and I both wish so much that his parents would quit once and for all. Thank you.

[Mark Evans]

Great story. I have listened to you for several years and enjoy the banter between Sherri and you. My story is similar to yours with my Dad's age, kid's age and my relationship to him at the time of his death. Keep being yourself on the air! I don't think you are able to do otherwise

[Debbie LeClair]

Bob, your story soooo touched my heart!!! My father died back in 1975, I was 21 years old then. I did not even understand "alcholism", I thought he drank because he "wanted to" and he was "the town drunk". He smoked all of his life, too. He had to quit school when he was in the 6th grade to help his family on the farm, in Orono, ME. I only have started to love and understand him in more recent years...how I wish I had hugged him more. Despite it all, he tried hard and worked every day at Strias Textile mill. He/we deserved better, too.

I met you a few years back in Bangor, when you were at "Irvings" w/Sponge Bob. I am "Debbie with the brain tumor". As I listen to you and Sheri and realize you, too, have struggles and mountains to climb, I know that life is more connected than I had ever realized.

God bless you, Sheri and all of your families!!