Many times my father verbally expressed what he thought I needed to know. There
were times it was through watching his actions and there were many times I just got
lucky, by being in the right place at the right time...Each a learned event.
After my father's death, I was going through some of his papers for my mom and ran
across his birth certi cate. The last name on the birth certi cate caught my eye. It was
not the last name listed on my father's driver's license. My eyes were widened. What
did this mean?
We as a family accepted my father’s last name as our own. The last name he used was
different than the legal last name listed on his birth certi cate, marriage license, and
several of my older sibling's birth certi cates where he was listed as “Father”. What
did this mean?
The curiosity was too much. I asked my mother a little after my daddy’s death for the
last name explanation. She stated, daddy was raised by an uncle and he decided it was
his uncle's last name he would honor. Oh well...
I never questioned or inquired again. He had his reasons and that was ne in my camp.
It didn't appear to bother my elder siblings that the last name on their birth certi cate
was different than the last name they were accustomed to. They would all change the
last name.
As a family, we never openly discussed the "Name Game". We cherished the name he
chose and we equally accepted it.
As a young man, I remember staying clear of any young lady with that surname. I
thought It was important to be very precautionary because of the possible severe
consequences. It is a small small world after all.
My First Flashback: I remember my rst recollection of my father. I was 4-5 years old.
It was the night our home burned down from an accidental kerosene heater spill.
I don’t know if that is of any signi cance to my psychological pro le...Everyone
survived the re intact that evening. The wooden row house burned very quickly. Our
family stayed at my father’s best friend's home for about 2 weeks after the re...
No one was hurt. We were all good. no horror memories. My sister, number (4), saved
my life by carrying and passing me through the bedroom window to my father. I only
remember the freezing breeze of that night. I had been asleep only a few moments
before the re started.