With Father’s Day coming up, I wanted to tell you a little about my Dad.

You don’t get to choose your father and some Dads are certainly lacking, but I scored a true winner. I never questioned his love for me. He was determined to give me what he never received from his family.

My grandfather was an accomplished man with a photographic memory, one of the youngest CPAs in California. He had wealth, an estate in Hollywood Hills with numerous servants and prestige.

He lost most of that with the crash of the stock market in 1929. This turned both of my grandparents to alcohol. From that point forward, they were seldom sober.

My father held the swim record for the City of Los Angeles in breaststroke and butterfly, but his parents never saw him swim.

He supported himself from the age of 8 by selling the broken glass from the two or three empty quart liquor bottles, which were provided by my grandparents each night. He also supplemented his income by mowing lawns and selling the cuttings for mulch.

When my father was sixteen, he decided to quit school and join the Merchant Marines to fight in WW II. Two other friends were supposed to join him, but their fathers would not sign the parental approval forms. My grandfather did not even ask any questions. He just poured another drink.

After the war had ended, he had sailed around the world three times. Been shipwrecked three times by sabotage or torpedoes and survived it all.

He met a young lady in California, so he give up the sea and settled down. He soon had two energetic young boys seeking his attention.

One of my youngest memories of my dad was when I was about 2 years old. I was looking up at him and thinking he was a giant. It was comforting to know such a big man would protect me.

With less then a high school education, his job choices were limited. So, he worked during the day and attended school at night to become an electrician.

He became Scout Master of our Boy Scout Troop. We went camping each month of the year except December, when we had a big Christmas Party. He did a lot of sacrificing for my brother and I.

He learned to fish so we could have additional bonding experiences. I remember being introduced with great pride, to some of his coworkers on company fishing trips. He was always proud of me.

I was his helper in the garage as he crafted wooden furniture. And yes, he would yell at me when I did not hold the plywood straight as he cut it on his table saw. I can still hear him holler, “Hold it straight! You are pinching the blade.” I miss those times, because I knew he always loved me.

Before He died, I was able to help build his new house. He worked along side me, but he had grown old and slow. I did most of the work, but he was still there.

It was very difficult to say goodbye to my dad. I wasn’t there when he died, but I had spent the week prior with him. There was nothing unsaid. I even confessed about the dent in the roof of the car when I was a teenager.

My dad was one of the most successful men I have met. He never had much money, but he accomplished his goals. Now don’t get me wrong, I have been with a former President of the United States, Congressmen, Senators and even billionaires. But to me, none were more successful then my dad.

It takes more then money and fame to be a, “Number One Dad.” It takes love and dedication.

I still think of my dad when I am out on the water catching fish. I partially decided to become a fishing guide because of him. I love teaching other what he taught me. So if the boat rocks sometimes, don’t worry. It’s just my dad having some fun with me.

Ken Bear Cole
Fishing with Bear LLC