June 21, 2020

“Father’s Day”

By Jim Culp

Father’s Day is a fairly modern celebration honoring paternal bonds and the act of fatherhood. Today, here in the United States, we celebrate Father’s Day for the 110^th time. Father’s Day, in some form or another, was celebrated in Catholic Christian countries as Saint Joseph’s Day dating way back into the Middle Ages. We, as citizens of the United States of America, did not start this tradition until 1910. For the past 110 years, Father’s Day has evolved into many household customs, and like many holidays here in the USA, they may be religion based or not. Some respect the old traditions; like “Sunday of the Forefathers,” where God told Abraham "In thy seed shall all of the nations of the earth be blessed" (Genesis 12:3, 22:18). Many others just like to honor their Dad, Step Dad, or someone who raised them. I fall into the latter category.

My Father (who I still call “Daddy) was a man raised in South-West Texas. He was the son of a cowboy, a mason, and a rancher. When he was 22 years old, he married a beautiful girl, Mary Ann Bristow, who was 17 years old by 5 days (see Photo #1). The lovely couple would enjoy a marriage of just 20 years, but would have seven children. Oldest to youngest they were: Deborah, John, Cynthia, Thomas, Mart, David, and James. My Dad wanted to be a soldier in his younger years. He attended a military academy, but was refused service in the active military because he suffered from a birth defect known as “ventricular septal defect,” or to put it plainly, a hole in your heart. He turned to civilian aspirations, and worked many types of jobs. Later, he started driving tractor trailer rigs (see Photo #2) in various modes, but finally settled on long hauls from El Paso to the West Coast.

In 1969, my Dad died of a massive heart attack, and the Culp kids were left with one parent for a long period. I was just two years old when Daddy passed, and can scarcely remember anything about it. The hole in my life of not having a real Dad would affect me for the rest of my life.

In June of 1972, my Mom remarried. William George Lesperance was a man 9 years older than my Mom, and about as different from my Dad as you could imagine (see Photo #3). “Bill,” as he was known to most, was a big man. He had a thundering bass voice, and talked to people like he wanted to. If he felt it, he spoke it. Bill was from Stockton, Kansas, and grew up in the midst of the Great Depression. He was raised on meals that included meat only once or twice a week. He was also raised by a father that had hard and fast rules about women and children. This would transfer to the Culp house when he became our paternal figure, but that is another story for another time.

During my childhood and teenage years, my relationship with this man evolved into friendship and mutual respect. My unofficial step-father (not my law) would be just that…a father. He paid the bills, and gave us a life. He was never a “Daddy” to me. His official title was “Pop.” I loved him for what he was, and he and I were “straight-shooters” when I (and my siblings) was with him when he passed in 1997. Pop loved his grandchildren, and always enjoyed being with them (see Photo #4).

In 1989, I became a Dad. My precious little girl, Jessica Marie Culp, was born on December 16, 1989. My life would change forever, as I was just 23, close to how my Dad had been when his first child was born. I was clueless, but I did have a large encyclopedia of lessons from watching my siblings with their kids for many years. A Sergeant in the Army once told me “Culp, congrats on the kid. But let me warn ya…when you have a boy, you only gotta worry about one pecker. But now that you got yourself a girl, you gotta worry about a hundred million of ‘em.”

“Thanks Sarge,” I said. “I’m glad you made me aware of that.”

If you are a father (by blood or law) you are part of a large fraternity of men that know the joy, worry, heartache, and sheer gratitude of raising children. The key (I’ve learned) is to love your children unconditionally. They are part of you, and you are their guide in life. Happy Father’s Day.

-Jim 

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