FATHER - I GOT IT

FATHER... I GOT IT! 

PREFACE

Hey, I'm Darrell, number #8. Thank you for your kind interest in my Father-Son memoirs.

"Father's Day is once a year, but Fatherhood is a lifetime and a day."

I was fortunate enough to have a few positive black father gures in my life as an adolescent black

male in addition to my life-wise, proud birth father. I know many who had opposite experiences.

I had the support of my best friends' father who treated me as one of his own sons, football

coaches who sincerely mentored me with my best interest at heart. I continue to have support

from a very special brother-in-law who guided me like a father. an engaging friend and gave the

insight of a smart big brother. I also converse weekly with one of my football coaches of 40+years.

My adolescence village support system consisted of all pillars, Jack W. Wheeler (brother-in-law),

Loucies Jackson (Best Friend's dad), Eugene Clapp, Jack McClarian, Charles W. Moore, (3 football

coaches) and as an adult, my behind the scenes Father-in-law of 40 years, Elbert Denby.

Other adults helped me cope and learn through their jealousy, envious & spiteful actions. I will not

list them. I have no ill will towards them. I thank them so much for the reecting experience.

My village support was a shining example of what I felt was the backbone and structure of what

type of man I was to become and provide number #8, the necessities of manhood.

My dad didn’t believe in practical jokes. He did not believe in sarcasm but he had the humor to

initiate a bit of sarcasm if you left yourself wide open. He enjoyed those teaching moments.

Pops was the family disciplinarian, you know... ”Wait ‘till your father gets home" kinda guy. He was

not a perfect father, far from it, He understood perfection could be eeting. He simply tried to do

his best with what was available. He accomplished that in my eyes. He was the ideal father for me.

My father would never verbally admit how proud he was of all his children and grandchildren, but

we all knew he was. Sometimes, I would catch a glimpse of him smiling for no apparent reason when

most of us would get together as a family on holidays and such as siblings with our kids.

Now daddy was not a religious person, even though my mother, his wife, was an ordained minister.

That had little effect on him. He had his place with the lord and that was enough for him. My

mother prayed over her man constantly...but never preach at him nor pressure him...

Page 2

Based on what little I do know, I can only imagine he had a hard young life in rural Alabama with
very little laughter, just my guess.