Father’s Day, 2014
My house has many newspapers in it, my dad worked for a
newspaper and loved it, you’d think he was the editor the way he talked about
that paper, excited at each of its successes; a thick paper at Thanksgiving time
could send him into swoons.
My dad sold 'want ads', the little classified ads in the back
of the paper and he was real good at it.
He was a really good salesperson as he was a good listener –I’ve often
felt that you don’t talk to sell, you listen. He also used want ad shorthand all the time
--- my birthday card would say love “D” for dad, my mother’s, love “O” for
Ollie, he did not use apt, rms, etc.
with us. For many years though, I did real
exacting steno work but I had never taken a class in shorthand. I just always wrote in my own shorthand ---
like my father. I had never realized the
correlation until lately. Love “D”!
My father used to take me out of school, I don’t know how he
managed that with the nuns, but he’d take me out of 3rd or 4th
grade and we’d go on his ‘rounds’ together.
Rounds meant that he’d visit big companies who advertised with the paper. We’d drive into the countryside around
Rochester, New York and visit ‘dealerships’ --- it could be cars, trucks,
tractors. I loved the tractors
myself. I probably still had braids then
and I know I had a space between my front teeth and we’d enter these huge
showrooms and all these businessmen would stop what they were doing and come
running, hollering out as they rushed towards us, their hands extended to my
father --- “Ollie, where’ve you been?, boy is it good to see you!” and they’ be
all smiles. My father had made their day
-- just by walking in the door.
It was a wonderful thing for a young girl to see ---her
father making everybody happy just like
that --- it’s stayed with me all my life.
Then, of course, there was always lunch and another important thing he
taught me --- an attribute that has stood the test of time --- is how to find
the best food. The thing was it wasn’t necessarily
in those places that ‘looked’ so nice.
It was often in some nondescript little hole in the wall and the food
would be superb and, again, the personnel would often seem to know my father
and welcome him back with great warmth.
Tablecloths were optional, usually missing!
I was so lucky to have known this man, “Ollie Kane,” lucky
to have adopted some of his great instincts. I wish I didn’t have so many newspapers lying
around the house but to me a paper will never be on-line, or reading it on a screen. It will always be my father’s newspaper, soft
and accessible --- you can tuck it under your arm and read it at a lunch counter
with a great old heavy white cup splattering coffee into the saucer. And, later, besides recycling, you can pull
out the vinegar and a few sheets of newsprint and wash your windows. To this day, I have never figured how or why
that works ---but, it truly does.
I had a great father, it was a joy and privilege to know him
--- and, fun too.
Happy Father’s Day one and all. And, thanks Ollie Kane forever!!!
