By Bill McCray
A natural affinity for direct sunlight makes it a challenge for a plant or tree to take root and grow to its fullest potential in an area of extreme shade; those that do tolerate shade typically lose a few of their decorative features or produce fewer flowers.
The struggle to flourish and develop can also be a challenge for a young man growing up in the shade cast by the accomplishments, acclaim and admirers of their father. That challenge to find enough ‘son light’ to grow was just such a challenge for me and one compounded by the fact that we shared the same name; for as long as I can remember I was always known as ‘Bill’s boy’.
In all fairness, the accomplishments were significant, the acclaim well-earned, and the admirers totally justified in their estimation of my father as a great man. He served as a sergeant in the U.S. Army with the 86th Infantry Division during WWII, completing tours in Europe and the Philippines.
In the years between returning home from the war in 1945, and marrying my mother in 1947, he was a catcher in a local semi-pro baseball league; the desire to purchase a home and start a family soon resulted in a need to trade in the catcher’s mask for a hardhat. Initially he worked in a steel mill before accepting a position in an oil refinery, and along the way he coached a Babe Ruth baseball team for teens sponsored by a local fire house where he served as a volunteer.
A soldier, an athlete, and a firefighter … can the bar be set any higher? The answer is yes, as he went on to become the author of a monthly newsletter for the surviving members of his Army division, the president of the firehouse, and the commissioner of the local Babe Ruth League, a distinction that earned him a place in the Delco Athletes Hall of Fame.
As luck would have it, in addition to his many fine attributes, my father was an outstanding ‘gardener’ who recognized and responded to the pressures on me growing up in his shadow. He ‘pruned’ carefully, especially in the season between adolescence and puberty, understanding that the ‘integrity’ of the structure in the early years is more important than the aesthetics.
At times he was even willing to prune his own branches to increase the amount of air and light that filtered through to me, an act of love and patience for which I have always been grateful. The choices he made during my childhood and the ones that he influenced as an adult allowed me to achieve a lifelong goal.
To be exactly like him.
The decision to enlist in 1942 came at the expense of graduating high school and in 1973 he began a GED program; we each received our high school diplomas in the summer of 1973.
In 1977, I was hired at the refinery and we worked together until his retirement in 1984; post-retirement, I became his ‘pipeline’ for information about changes and events at the refinery. His influence led me to complete an undergraduate program and later a graduate program: at each event the highlight was seeing his face at the end of the aisle as I walked off of the platform.
In October 2004 the Boston Red Sox, our favorite team, completed a historic comeback against the New York Yankees and advanced to the World Series. The Friday before the game I searched for tickets to Game 1 at Fenway Park while my wife scrambled to get airline tickets and a hotel reservation. By the grace of God, everything fell into place and, in spite of the costs, the opportunity to see a World Series game with my father was exactly like the commercial proclaims; priceless!
He passed away the following March.
Many knew of his exploits as a soldier, athlete, and firefighter, but fewer knew of his most outstanding achievement; being a truly great father. Of all of the blessings that I have received over the years, too many to count and more than I deserve, the most precious was the gift of being ‘Bill’s boy’.
Happy Father’s Day!