So what was my Dad like?

My Dad was not a very assertive type of person.  He was much more mellow than that.  Seems funny for a man who spent 20 years in the Army.  A career that spanned three Wars.  He never seemed to be very forceful or aggressive.  Probably  passive-aggressive, which everyone thinks of as a lack of bravery.  I don't think it was lack of bravery, just a sense of self that told him what was the best way to get through life.

Dad seemed to be the most comfortable when he was in situations where he understood what was required of him.  That is probably why he fit in so well in the Army.  The open communication of expectations would have helped him to understand what he was supposed to do, and when he was supposed to do it.  The rules of behaviour were quite obvious.

I believe that it was this way with his relationship with my Mother.  She was quite the opposite of my Dad.  She was quite assertive, aggressive would be the better way to say it, and sometimes forceful to extremes.  She dominated my Dad.  I think he tolerated it because it allowed him to be comfortable with his daily existence.  I am sure that if he was not comfortable with it, he would have let us know in some way.

An example my parents relationship comes to mind.  That of a woman and horse plowing a field.  Him, the horse, providing the brute strength to break the ground.  She, seeing the greater goal, providing the direction and purpose to achieve it.  Both contributing their best to reach the goal.  Each in their own way taking care of the other, neither superior or inferior, just striving together to get through another day.

That is what my Dad was like.  A loving, caring man that allowed his wife to set the family goals, and worked with her to achieve them.

I hope you understand.  He had his weaknesses and strengths, just as we all have them.  He got up every morning to face another day.  I think that is the best way to remember him.

Recollections of my Father, Willard N. Overing

How I met my Dad.

I am writting about my memories of my Dad for some very special people.  So that they may know him as I do, a loving father.  I hope you understand.

When I was 12 years old my older brother had a paper route. I helped him on Sunday mornings with putting the papers together and delivering them. We would wake up at 4:00 am to begin the process of assembling, or stuffing, the different sections of the paper together, then go off into the dark morning to deliver them. It was a long and tiring task that usually took from 4:00 am until after the sun came up to complete. For this I was supposed to get paid some amount of money, probably 50 cents, which actually happened on occasion.

One Sunday morning we awoke to find a strange man sleeping on the couch. Now you have to understand that our mother was divorced, and this was 1958 in small town southern Indiana. Not the usual occurance to say the least. The day prior had been Kentucky Derby day. Cause of much celebration and bourbon consumption in our neck of the woods. My Mom could party with the best of them, and had apparently brought someone home after the party was over. This is how I met the man who would become my Dad.

My brother and I stuffed and delivered the papers as usual, talking about the man on the couch. Who was he?  Where did he come from?  And why was he sleeping on our couch?  When we returned home, my Mom and her new friend, hiding their hangovers, were fixing breakfast.  Mom told us that she had meet her friend at a post Derby party at a nightclub the night before.  That he was a soldier stationed at Fort Knox and that his ride back to the post had abandoned him at the party.  Mom had kindly offered to bring him home to sleep on the couch, and would take him to Fort Knox the next day.  We ate our breakfast and talked to this stranger.  His name was Willard Overing, a Sargent First Class in the Army, but he said we could call him "Sarge".  He was a cook in the Army and he was friendly.  He told us that he had been stationed in the Orient, Japan and Korea, for 7 years, before being stationed at Fort Knox.  He told us that he had a daughter in Japan, and that her name was June.  Quite exotic for a young boy in southern Indiana.

"Sarge" and my mother continued to date for over a year, and then got married.  For the first time I could remember, I had a father.  What a change in my life, but more on that later.