Dad Part 1

There is a special relationship between Father and Son. A bond that is born on the feeling that he is the person who will keep my spirit alive after I have gone to the dark. I have always been very proud when people compliment me saying I am like my Dad. He was a wonderful spirit who , by turns, was funny, smart, kind, and caring. I may have some of those--- I'm still a work in progress--- but, he was the complete picture....Dad died on March 22 1996 and not a day goes by that he isn't in my thoughts. ...........He was born James Martin Scoleri on July 8th 1928. Dad was the first child. My Uncle Tom was born in 1943. He grew up in the Depression and learned at a early age sacrifice and going without. He was a bright,witty child who dreamed of becoming a musician. He possessed the ability to learn music by ear and play the piano flawlessly. However, as happens in life, reality kills a person's dreams and ambitions. My Grandmother, whom we called Nana, was not the most selfless person. She was given to thinking that the son takes care of the mother--- Italian tradition-- while my Dad's father was a kind man who was sickly and died at a young age. Dad was 15 when that happened and from then on he became the man of the family. He handled his new role remarkably. This is the hero part of my father's story for me. Some men run away from their responsibilities. Not him!!! His dreams went in the drawer for a later time. He worked during the war and became the man people write stories about. As a young man, he supported my Nana and my Uncle-- who was a toddler then-- while also finding time to live a strong social life. He was quite the ladies man!!! My Mother later told me that their were women literally fighting over him. Balance this with an army of friends and you have a popular person who makes you feel good to be around him..................  Around the beginning of the 1950's , Dad met a extraordinary woman named Patricia Grimmer. She lived by Wrigley Field and was working in a bank. They met, of all places, at someone's wake. They hit it off and soon after, went out on a date. It is a sign on how life was back then, but, their first date was at a Italian restaurant where my mother tried pizza for the first time. By both accounts, love quickly followed and in 1953 they became husband and wife. Dad was 25 and Mom was 23. My sister was born in 1956. My brother Tom in 1962, and me in 1965. They lived in Norridge and later in Des Plaines. Dad couldn't afford to go  to college,but, being the hard worker he was, he rose in any company he was employed at to the level of management. At one time he was head of operations for Paslode,which made office parts, and Converse shoes. But, this is where life shows its cruelty. He was also a victim of bad economies and corrupt superiors. As soon as he hit any type of top rung on the ladder of success, he was knocked down. He would brush himself off and charge back into the world to support his family.And, here is another example of my admiration of him-- he never gave up.He was bloodied, he was wounded,and HE KEPT  GOING !!! Dad was never lazy, just short of luck. He was never bitter about business problems, but, there was a little bit of wistfulness of muted dreams and what might have been..