He was a Silent Generation police officer. Did his hitch in the Army then came out West and was a beatnik for a few years, then cut his hair and joined the SFPD, then the CHP, then the SJPD
He came from a very Calvinist family and he was the black sheep, believe it or not
He was supposed to carry on and be a preacher like his father, grandfather, etc
Anyway, I was always a rebel. I started smoking at 13, started smoking pot at 14 and had my first hit of acid at 15
I always did things my way and my dad would always fight me on that
At one point literally (actually it was just him slapping me around and me running away)
At one point I went to a Pink Floyd concert, got busted for alcohol (I was 17) and the BART police called my dad
He told me to come home immediately, I said no and hung up
I came home to find all the posters stripped off my wall and we never spoke of it
Then I went to community college, transferred to a four year and eventually got my masters
He was a racist, and I married outside of my race
This did not seem to bother him
When he met my kids, he loved them as much as any grandparent would
I never sought out his approval or his pride, but back in my mind I wanted it
Later on we developed a much better relationship, after his divorce from my mom
When I joined the Peace Corps, he was all for it and told me he wished they had that when he was a 20-something
I would like to think he respected my standing up to him
I don't know if he did, I never asked him
When he had a stroke, I had to take over his finances
I sold his home and bought rentals that paid for his care home
He passed a bit over a year ago, and I had dreams all during that time
I would like to think he was proud of me, but I don't know
Maybe that's just wishful thinking
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