Father's Day, 2009

When I was young, my father stood as target for which I might aim. I pulled the old college yearbooks out from the cabinets in which they were stored and saw pictures of my parents in their youth. And I could see pictures of my father studying calculus, eating catfish and coleslaw with my mother and standing proudly in black and white pictures with the cream of Clarksville High School and Austin Peay. It was a daunting thought to think about his many accomplishments, honors and awards.

Later, my father placed Frank and me in Pop Warner football and Little League baseball. Little boys playing games in the sunshine. But he was always there. Coaching, managing, serving as treasurer or in charge of buildings and grounds. Always coming up alongside us.

But the most important thing I remember was my father showing up at my practices to watch the scrimmages and drive me home after practice was over. As my mother prepared our late suppers, he was there to take us home after everything was over.

But even more so, I think about my father's voice rising above the other voices in the stands, when I made a tackle or took the football down the field toward the goalline or caught a pass behind the secondary. That voice rose above all the others that entered the earholes on my helmet.

I have a fuzzy picture of the day I graduated from Washington and Lee. In the picture, I see my father in his Summer suit, with his arm around my shoulders, in my black graduation robe. The expressions on our faces reflect the satisfaction and happiness of the afternoon.

If I am good at being a father to Kate, I know that it is through the example of my father. Tomorrow is Father's Day and, like dad, I will be honored for my part in raising Kate to young womanhood. Any accomplishments she makes in her life, and there will be many more, I know, they will follow directly in a line from the example of her grandfather. So his part in the continuation and accomplishments of this family will surely continue, just as when he first held us in his arms when we were infants. Generation to generation.