I Call Him Dad

February 18, 1941

Twenty-eight degrees. No snow falls. About five degrees higher than the local average. Inside the bustling hospital, tender cries from a bassinet. It’s a boy! Joy from family, relief from his parents, Catherine and Hubert Earl. He can’t replace the loss of the first babe. It just wasn’t his time. Yet, this one shall live.

No one knows what the world will bring to his feet. Turmoil reigns as world leaders rise to the sound of war. Less than a year after the birth, horror and death explode in Hawaii. The new babe is too small to understand. One day though, he will step up to serve, an honor for him. For now, Charles David Moore slumbers in peace.

February 25, 1941

Charlie leaves the hospital with his parents. He arrives at his first home, a tiny apartment with barely enough room for two. Life will not be easy. Money is short, fear is rampant with the threat of war coming closer to home.

Life that day includes a record set by the Boston Bruins for twenty-three unbeaten games. Milk costs less than thirty cents and comes by way of a milkman. Five dollars can buy enough food for a week for Charlie and his parents.

December 7, 1941

This is a day that will haunt every living person in Charlie’s state, Kentucky. This day is the catapult to world war. No longer will the leaders support allies from the sidelines. Death will follow, yet fear cannot stand in the way of the fight for freedom.

Earl, along with thousands of other men, enlists to fight for America. The scene takes place at every recruiting station from one coast to another. Catherine cries as her husband leaves. She has no promise that he will return alive and unharmed. A flag hangs in the window of their tiny apartment, a cross hangs on the wall next to it. She prays there each morning and night.

December 16, 1945

Catherine dresses up extra well for church services that morning. Her red lipstick is new, a real treat for the holidays. She takes extra care shaping the curls in her hair. The green dress she pulls from a special box fits right in with the joy of the season. She doesn’t know why she wants to look extra pretty. It’s just a wish that day. The only missing part is Earl.

Charlie sees him first. It’s his father! A chorus of thanks rises as Catherine realizes he’s home. Tears flow throughout the service. An impromptu party takes pace at their tiny apartment. No one minds the squeeze. Besides being home safe and with his family, the best part is learning the Cleveland Rams beat the Washington Redskins, 15-14. The NFL Championship game is at Cleveland Stadium.

July 15, 1950

Earl heads off to training. He’s destined for Korea after it. Catherine hangs the flag by the cross. She never misses a chance to pray. Charlie is nine now. He understands fear, yet has little grasp of what causes it. All that he knows comes from his parents, teacher, and priest at the local church. He and his friends talk about Korea. They agree it must be different from Louisville, where they call home.

August 25, 1954

Wednesday, a day like any other. Yet, it changes as a familiar figure arrives home. It’s my father! My mother weeps with joy! I escape getting fitted for my school uniform – a chore for any kid. That night, we have a wonderful dinner. My mother uses five whole dollars to pay for a bakery cake. She sends me on my bike to pick it up. I secretly buy a bouquet of flowers for my father. He tells me he was in such a rush to get home that he forgot to pick some up.  I save the day with my quick thinking. He winks at me as she gasps at their beauty.

May 21, 1960

I wear a white suit, button-down shirt, and a green bow tie. It’s traditional attire. My parents grin from ear to ear. It quickly turns into a family affair. I laugh as I accept my diploma. Thanks to the nuns who let me pass music by lip-syncing instead of real singing, I am here today. Guess I don’t have singing talent.

Summer of 1962

I am in agony. The Air Force instructor yells for fun. I’m convinced of it. At least I would be if I could find the energy. I refuse to quit. I will graduate on time.

More drills, more classes, more yelling. Must not quit. I will graduate on time. I grit my teeth. Push on.

Weeks past me now. I do my final uniform fitting today. I am proud of myself. My parents will be too at the ceremony. All I must do is pass my last health check. Patriotism surges through me. The benefits will help me in life.

Shock reigns, I don’t know what to say. I pack my belongings in silence. I hear drills outside. No one can say sorry enough. Failing my final health check ends any chance I have in the military.

Disappointment fills my mind as I try to think of an explanation. Guys just don’t bomb out of military training. The bus ride home is depressing. I find a bar, and a fondness for beer.

Fall of 1969

I see the most beautiful woman in the world. I try to charm her. She has green eyes for studying, that’s what she tells me. I’ll be the luckiest man if she agrees to a date.  

It’s cold now, snow falls here and there. The bar is open late. Al knows me well, how I like my drinks, when to cut me off. I’m here with Susan. She’s the woman from school. I order her drinks. She has no idea that I ask Al to add alcohol to her drinks. It’s okay, she gives them to me, and I get her fresh ones.

I’m in love. My heart’s in love. My head’s in love. All of me is in love. Susan and I date each week. Her hair curls at the edge of her hair. It looks beautiful, as much so as her eyes when she laughs at my attempt at humor.

Winter of 1970

She says yes! We dance cheek to cheek as Let It Be by The Beatles plays. It’s a joyous night for me, yet anxiety plagues me. I cannot tell her that I hate my job. I wish I could quit. She’d never marry me if I did not have a job.

May 9, 1970

How can I do this? Marrying! Me! Oh, how I love her. I tell myself that life will be fine. I just need a drink or two. Time moves quickly as I ponder the thought of spending my life with someone. Am I ready?

The ceremony is nice. Susan’s parents and mine do a good job. Susan makes a sweet bride, full of hope. I’m fine with it – after a few drinks, and then a few more.

We live with my parents for a bit after we marry. They’re open to having us there. Susan still wants us to have an apartment of our own. I need a drink.

Fall of 1970

I am not sure what to think – except joy! I’m about to be a father! My parents are ecstatic. Her family is as well. They’re all nervous. I do have trouble holding down a job for very long. I notice how they watch me drink. A few questions arise. Susan does her best to defend me.

January 31, 1971

Nearly thirty years ago I came into this world. Now, here we are waiting on our daughter. Snow piles up on every road and car outside. No one can get a car to start, not ours and not my parents’. The contractions are coming faster now. We must get to the hospital.

A police officer arrives. He’s older, and it’s the last day of work for him. He begins his retirement tomorrow. He tells us he’s never had a woman in labor in his car. It’s slow going.

I feel nervous. A nun stops me. I tell her that I’m having a baby. She says, “You look like you’re about to pop.” Laughing, I pace the hallway. The nurses bring Susan’s mother in.

February 1, 1971

It’s a girl! She arrives right after noon. Spending the night in a hospital is not comfortable. A bar down the street gave me a good lounge seat last night. Susan is with her mother. The two of them did well during the delivery. I was too nervous to be in the room.

December 1976

I walk in the snow. Winter is cold, I know. My misery chills my body even more. I have no place to go. Susan kicked me out. My marriage is over.

I will remember this night for the rest of my life. I go home after stopping off at a bar. She tells me we’re separated. I can’t come in. She no longer wants to be married. How is that possible?

I think back to the past few years. I know I drink more. I spend any money we have on beer. Our fights are vicious. I don’t know what I’m doing unless I’m sober. It’s not very often. I still love her, I always will.

I see a bar up ahead. I know the owner. Maybe he will let me sleep on the couch in the back. I might offer to clean up in exchange.

Years fly by, Charlie bounces from one friend’s house to another. Alcohol is the main focus of his life. He loses jobs faster than he finds a new one. He has limited conversations with his daughter. His ex-wife wants child support.

February 1, 1980

She’s growing up without me. I missed all these years because I let alcohol be my life. I see her hair, soft and brown. Her blue eyes, she has the same as me. I’m happy to see her any chance I get.

I do what I can to show her that I love her. I no longer drink. I still smoke. Something I’ve been doing since I was 15. It’ll kill me someday.

Today’s her birthday. I have nothing to give her. She doesn’t care. All she wants is to be with me.

I don’t know how I let her get away. I still love her mother. Always will. Yet, marriage was not good for me. She deserves someone that will love her the right way. My mental health is not good.

I’m just finding out about it. I think it explains quite a bit about me. I hope I have the time to earn my daughter’s love. I want to be a good father. I don’t feel like I am good at anything – certainly not a husband.

I live at St. Vincent De Paul Center now. I have a job at the front desk. All around I see copies of me. Drunk, out of work men that can’t tell the truth to themselves or anyone else. They lead broken lives. I want better for them. I pray for them. I was one of them.

March 15, 1988

After lapsing in a brain-dead coma, I find myself in Heaven. I no longer have chest pains or headaches. I feel whole again. My family is here. All my friends that I lost to sickness and accidents. Here, I am happy.

Yet, I look down. I see my daughter crying. Other family that I left behind is there. Everyone is sad. I needed more time with her. I had plans for us. I won’t see her graduate high school, at her prom.

I’m sure she’ll be beautiful. I always told her not to worry about the boys, for she would break more of their hearts than they would for her. I hope she’s good and kind to her mother. It’s not easy between them. All I can do is pray for them and keep them close to my heart. And may she always be a lifelong Kentucky Wildcats fan1