As a kid, my dad was described as both smart and a real brat. I interviewed him for a story project about 10 years ago. He told me that he put pennies on railroad tracks. Alvin Jensen was the instigator and urged him to do it. He thought it was funny.
He told me that he stayed with his grandparents on the farm in the summers. He fed the calves and pigs and tried to ride the steers. He chased the rooster around.
When my son Ben became an alter boy in grade school, I asked Dad if he had ever been an alter boy when he went to St. Michael’s. He told me no, that it might have been because he started a fire on the play ground. “Some other boys were doing it wrong so I had to show them,” he said.
As a kid I watched him go from wearing coveralls to suits and ties to work. He started as a tool and die apprentice at Cutler Hammer and worked his way up to engineering and VP positions. He worked at Dickten and Masch, Kelch and Plastocon.
When I asked who his biggest influences were. He said Jeanine, Eric Dickten, and Earl Miller. And of course his dad—a great mechanic.
Eric Dickten was “quite a man,” he said. “We gave each other a lot of respect. He gave me the confidence to do my own thing.” Earl Miller also came from Cutler Hammer. He was Dickten and Masch’s engineering manager and Ed reported to Eric and Earl and learned more from them.
t’s no surprise that dad went from tool and die apprentice to a VP position. He was a hard working industrious guy. He always had a project to work on. One of his most memorable quotes was “we have to get organized” as in we cannot go water skiing until he rearranged the pole barn.
Dad’s father, our Grandpa Maly or Grandpa Charlie, was a great mechanic indeed. His super power was keeping his father’s Model T running. A superpower he passed on to dad and from dad to Joe.
When I asked dad what his most difficult moment was he said getting married. If that was his most difficult decision, he had a pretty easy go.
The story about how he met mom goes something like—dad went with another girl to gather at Jeanine’s house before heading en mass to a surprise party a few blocks away. Ed rang the bell. They hit it off during the party and dad asked her out about a week later. Mom said he was better than any of the other guys—he was tall and handsome and most of all fun! Their first date was to Holy Hill. On another early date, dad picked up mom still wearing his hunting clothes. He brought her back to his parents house where he enlisted her help plucking duck feathers, a job that had to be completed before they went out.
He told me that he would stop for a beer on his way home from work and take Jeanine along sometimes. He gave her nickels to play pin ball or slot machines.
They married when dad was 21 and mom was 19 and after a few years moved to the house next to Grandma and Grandpa Maly’s.
They were super social and had a busy calendar of attending parties and hosting parties in the bar in the basement. Dad never missed a happy hour or dessert. He loved hors d’oeuvres or “horses doovers” as he called them as much as ice cream. We all know maple nut was his favorite flavor..
Dad and mom took ballroom dancing lessons. They went on motorcycle trips including rallies at Sturgis. They traveled to Europe. They went cross country skiing and bike riding. And of course, they went up north and they ate a lot of fish fries.
They enjoyed their retirement years and spent many winters foot loose and fancy free at Paradise Park in Texas.
In the meantime, everyone knows Dad was a big hunter and loved being out in the woods near Crivitz or at Horicon Marsh with Joe and a host of other family members and friends. Joe has many stories about hunting with dad. And he loved dogs. Oh how he loved dogs. Especially labradors, hunting dogs. In fact, I only saw him cry twice in my life and both times were because his dog had died.
I asked Dad about his most memorable event. He said, “I remember after Christmas when my dad decided to cut up the dried out Christmas tree and burn it branch by branch in the fire place. But suddenly the remaining tree was all in flames and the fire department came and saved the house.”
When I asked how it felt to have children his response was “spooky and uncomfortable.” I thought that was strange because while he may have been bewildered by infants who pooped in their pants and puked, he was a great dad.
He took us sledding, snowmobiling, water skiing, to drive in movies, and road trips where the highlight was always splashing into the pool as soon as we got to the hotel.
And he took us to church. But he always waited until after communion to take us to Mathies Tap where we got to have orange sodas and chocolate bars and hang out with uncles and cousins.
We were always proud to be his kids.
He was an equally awesome Grandpa. He loved to tease them, gnawing on their little arms like an animal. The boys were new recruits for deer camp. He schooled them in the art of manhood. He taught them all how to water ski just like he did with us, grinning with mischievous glee while he dragged them around the lake until they were ready to drop.
Ben said, “We are all skiing in the wake he left behind.”
Mary Jo described dad as an oak tree-tall, strong, sturdy, resilient, full of life and love. Thank you dad for all the lessons you taught us and the gifts you gave us. We are your legacy. And thank you mom for taking such good care of our dad.
In the kitchen of my childhood home, Grandpa and Dad stand having a shot of brandy and a beer after working on their old Model T Ford.
Stories from my breezeway 