My Dad never cared too much for events like Father's Days or even Mother's Days he would say something a bit sarcastic about a holiday to further the greeting card industry or something like that.
Here it's been a few years passing now since his old body finally wore out and his good spirit moved on.
I'll always have a Father as long as I am living. As much as I was frustrated and felt confined by being my father's son. Guy W. Meyer, Jr. burdened by my Father's indefatigable passion for 'The New World' which I managed to internalize with some grumpy dissatisfaction --- call in the shrink and lay me back on the couch and I'll tell you the story.... but, never mind.
I just want to Thank my Dad again specifically I remember a walk in back of our old house 'the parsonage' in Harrisville, Rhode Island. We lived alongside a rather large and beautiful Mill Pond, it was more like a lake. We moved there from Maine when I was
going into the first grade. The back yard by the lake had tangles of wild Concord Grapes, I could sit by the lake and watch sunfish, perch and pickerel, and might occasionally see turtles and water snakes. Probably during that first year Dad took me for a walk, out past the field in the back yard and into the woods, where he would turn over an old log on my behalf and show me some salamander or newt which seemed pretty cool, very magical. I remember he found some small sapling recognizing the leaves he pulled it right out of the ground. He took out a jackknife and scraped the roots. Here smell this he said, and I did. Wow! It smelled like Root Beer, 'Sassafras.' he said. That's all. Sassafras. One of the original magic ingredients in Root Beer. Dad had a deep I'll call it 'common sense' appreciation of nature. I thank him for this memory.
Dad entered Harvard University at the age of 16. The way I heard it or remember it from him was they wanted him. It was a different world then. I believe it might have been 1929 he was a kid in Waltham Massachusetts with a Dad who was a stockbroker who commuted into Boston. They had chickens in the backyard, there were lots of woods around Waltham, he was part of the 'piety corner' gang. Piety Corner was some physical space. He was an active kid who was an accomplished wrestler at least he told me he was. Somewhere in his first year or two at Waltham High School he decided to organize some kind of speaker forum. He took it upon himself to do all that was necessary and the school administration permitted him to go forward
I am not sure how many speakers he brought in but he went for the most controversial, he took great pride in the memory of bringing in a Nazi Party official as well as a Communist Party member. Who knows who else he brought in? His notion was to
let your enemies speak, not only your enemies just anyone and not be afraid and you get to ask them questions. He said that Harvard people heard about his year at Waltham High and wanted him. He was not a shy kid and had no problem being the youngster at Harvard... the Mandolin Club was one of his fondest memories. He had one year at Harvard before 'the Wall caved in' the great stock market crash and he was forced to leave, luckily finding a job in an enameling factory on the banks of the Charles River. His response to 'terrorists' many years later, was that we, the US, should invite their top guy to come and give them the opportunity to speak their mind even in the halls of Congress. That's who he was. He felt somehow that you shouldn't be afraid of someone know matter who, let them talk respectfully. See what they have to say. Better than building a wall of hatred and then set your army against theirs.
I could have finally dropped Junior from my name after his death. I would have been just Guy Meyer, maybe I still may at some point. I like knowing history. I appreciate the story of my parents and their parents and the scraps of knowledge of my ancestors.
