Stories I told about my Dad at his Funeral
JOEJOEJOE
Posts: 10,672
My sister, brother and myself all spoke at my dad's funeral.
If I may, I would like to share a few stories I told.
After he was liberated from the concentration camp, he spent a year recovering in Germany. He then traveled by boat to New York, but would soon settle in Los Angeles. I believe the name of the boat was the Marina Fleischer. Several years later, he joined the U.S. Army during the Korean war. He was stationed in Germany, and to get there, he was transported on the very same boat, the Marina Fleischer. How ironic that he came here as a refugee, and a few years later, he went back on the same boat, but this time, as a proud U.S. soldier.
When my dad first arrived in L.A., his older brother urged him to go to school, since his education grinded to a hault when he was just 13. He opted to work so that he could buy a car, and some fancy clothes. His American cousin owned a shoe factory in L.A., so my dad went to work there. Soon after, my dad realized he could barter women's shoes in exchange for various goods/services. He made friends with someone at the Department of Motor Vehicles, so in exchange for a few pairs of shoes, all of my dad's friends/relatives had no problem in obtaining their drivers licenses!
My dad joined the army after working at the shoe factory for a few years. He was stationed in Northern California, so it wasn't too far of a drive from his family in Los Angeles. Anytime he wanted a weekend pass, he would ask his sargent what size shoe his girlfriend wore. My dad would then suggest that he be granted a weekend pass so that he could go to L.A. and bring back a few pairs of shoes for the sargent's girlfriend.
When I was a kid, I recall my dad making friends with various restaurant hosts/hostesses. We never had to wait long for our table, mainly because my dad would throw them a pair of shows here and there.
My dad was quite the legit hustler!
If I may, I would like to share a few stories I told.
After he was liberated from the concentration camp, he spent a year recovering in Germany. He then traveled by boat to New York, but would soon settle in Los Angeles. I believe the name of the boat was the Marina Fleischer. Several years later, he joined the U.S. Army during the Korean war. He was stationed in Germany, and to get there, he was transported on the very same boat, the Marina Fleischer. How ironic that he came here as a refugee, and a few years later, he went back on the same boat, but this time, as a proud U.S. soldier.
When my dad first arrived in L.A., his older brother urged him to go to school, since his education grinded to a hault when he was just 13. He opted to work so that he could buy a car, and some fancy clothes. His American cousin owned a shoe factory in L.A., so my dad went to work there. Soon after, my dad realized he could barter women's shoes in exchange for various goods/services. He made friends with someone at the Department of Motor Vehicles, so in exchange for a few pairs of shoes, all of my dad's friends/relatives had no problem in obtaining their drivers licenses!
My dad joined the army after working at the shoe factory for a few years. He was stationed in Northern California, so it wasn't too far of a drive from his family in Los Angeles. Anytime he wanted a weekend pass, he would ask his sargent what size shoe his girlfriend wore. My dad would then suggest that he be granted a weekend pass so that he could go to L.A. and bring back a few pairs of shoes for the sargent's girlfriend.
When I was a kid, I recall my dad making friends with various restaurant hosts/hostesses. We never had to wait long for our table, mainly because my dad would throw them a pair of shows here and there.
My dad was quite the legit hustler!
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You're right. You are a monster! You are sick! Get help!
At least, I am not a fuck-up! A lying fuck-up!
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"I play good, hard-nosed basketball.
Things happen in the game. Nothing you
can do. I don't go and say,
"I'm gonna beat this guy up."
I've always been a believer in the barter system.
ya think you could channel your pops and get "the woman" some boots.
pretty crazy on the boat rides. :shock:
I will ask for the boots in a few months.....I am sure he is busy setting up some new hustles in Heaven...something to do with getting people up there, even though they should actually go to hell!
Oh, it all makes sense now!
When you dress-up in drag on Saturday nights, you call yourself "The Woman", eh?
Thanks for sharing that. Your dad sounds like your dad was a really fun guy
Where I'm not ugly and you're lookin' at me
He had his funny moments, but he suffered from untreated depression, so he often hid behind his Smirnoff, and used his office as his hiding place. Based on his experiences in WWII, he always worried about the survival and well-being of his family. He would claim poverty if I wanted some dough to buy something fun (hence, I started earning my own at age 14), but if I needed money for anything education-related, his wallet was always open.
I owe it to him to thrive, since all he wanted to do was survive.
beautiful words ... I get this too
I would say again sorry for your loss but he remains always with you and he was
a huge gain for you! This so easy to be seen.
great memories Joe!
- Christopher McCandless
I had wanted to do a reading at my fathers service 19 years ago, but my oldest sister did the first one so by the time i got up there I couldn't hold it together. :(
Let's just breathe...
I am myself like you somehow
Thanks.
Luckily, I held it together!