Keep a positive outlook always.

My father at 12 years old

My father taught me a valuable life lesson - to make the best of what life throws at you. He and his siblings were orphaned at the age of 7 when their parents passed away within a month of each other. When he turned 25, he joined the Army in January 1941 and was assigned to the 1st Field Artillery Observation Battalion. On December 7th, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor and the United States entered World War II. My father's unit was highly decorated and received several citations, one of which was for being on the front lines longer than any other unit since the Civil War. They were on the front lines for over a year without a break, with a significant amount of that time spent directly in front of enemy lines.
 

After the war, my father returned home and got married to my mother. A year later, my brother Phillip was born with several medical problems and spent a large part of his short life in The Babies Hospital. Unfortunately, Phillip passed away about a year later, towards the end of 1947.

Soon after my birth, the trucking company where my father worked as a manager in Wilmington went bankrupt in 1952. We had just moved into a new house on Mercer Avenue when my twin sisters, Mary Katherine and Eva Louise, were born prematurely and did not survive. I believe my parents never fully got over this, along with the loss of my brother, and these events may have contributed to my being spoiled.

My father with my daughter 1972

Life went on and soon after, my father started working for Wanet Sausage Company, which was known for having some of the finest people in the area to work for. However, not long after we moved into our new house on the ICWW on Masonboro Sound, my father had a heart attack. Despite this setback, he was determined to go back to work. The company made a job for him that was easier and paid more money, which he worked from 1964 until 1970 when he had to stop working due to a stroke. Just the year before, they had moved back to town to be closer to the hospital, which may have saved his life. 

Around 1978, he lost his leg as a result of a clot in an artery. Again, the move to town may have been what saved him because of the time it took to get to the hospital. Sadly, he finally lost his fight with heart disease and passed away in June of 1980. 

Despite all these troubles, there were many good times. However, the point of this story is that throughout his struggles, I never heard my father complain or try to blame anyone. He always remained positive on the outside, no matter how he felt or what he thought on the inside. Although I try to live like this, I have never quite managed to do so, even though I learned this quality from him.