My father is amazing in his devotion to family and most of all our mother. One day I remember looking out from the second story window and seeing that dad was mowing my mom's name-Lisa- in great big block letters in the grass as he cut the lawn! Now that's a memory that I'll cherish always!
When I was eight years old (1953), my mother worked Friday nights and Saturday in a clothing store. That left my father and me to fend for ourselves after dinner.
Having served in World War II in Italy, (he won the Bronze Star) Dad loved to watch war movies and judge their accuracy according to his experiences. In those days, the only place to see a movie was at the movie theater and New Bedford, MA, had three - The Strand, The Capitol, and the Rialto. As I recall, we went to the movies every Friday night for that entire year. I believe I saw every war movie ever made to that period, as well as every Western. I maintain that I could invade Normandy, take Pork Chop Hill, and defend any western fort from the Apaches because I saw it done so often.
Dad bought me Jujubees, (sp?) Nonpareils, and Mike and Ikes and explained in a whisper everything going on on the screen that I didn’t understand. We had such a good time together.
When I was a clumsy adolescent and all the boys I knew gawked at the pretty little blondes, I used to tell my father that he was the only man I’d ever love. That changed, of course, but I think I write romance today partly because he was such a good example of a loving hero.
My father often had a bunch of giggling girls in our station wagon. He'd be driving us to Skateland. Soon, he'd bring the whole vehicle to a stop. My friends would say, "What are you doing, Mr. Tracy?" He'd point to a sign on the side of the road. He'd say, "That sign says Stop Ahead. So…" and at this point, he'd look around before continuing, "I'm looking for a head to stop."
Albert Tracy always wanted to make my friends smile :)