FAMILY
Between a Father And His Son
My old man and the late, great Ted Williams
My dad, Roy, and I never got along under the same roof. No matter what, we just got under each other’s skin.
When I enlisted in the Marines, there was a thaw in our icy relationship, but only a slight one. I loved my dad and my mom, of course. We just grated on each other. To this day, I don’t know why. Thankfully, that changed before he passed away.
My dad was a veteran of World War II, having served with the 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division. He came home with two stars on his jump wings (indicating two jumps into combat), a Bronze Star, and two Purple Heart medals. He never talked about his awards or time in combat.
While stationed at Fort Lewis — I believe it’s called Joint Base Lewis McChord — in Washington State, my folks announced they were flying out to visit. I was stunned. In my mind, it was so out of the ordinary for them to fly across the country. Don’t get me wrong; I was ecstatic over that bit of news.
My then-wife and I prepared for their arrival. The girls — we had two at the time — would sleep in our room, and my parents would camp out for the week in their room.
I took leave so I could spend the entire week with them. I picked them up at…
