Happy birthday Dad

Today would have been my father’s 90th birthday.  Even to write that seems strange, for to me he will perpetually be a man in his 50’s or 60’s (which is weird because I am 62 and he was definitely older than me). Even as he declined rapidly the last couple years of his life, I would catch glimmers of the father that I knew and will always love.  He was, and always will be my hero.  

I am the man that I am today, because of his influence.  Even though my temperament is more like my mom, I followed the path that I followed, because of my dad.  Like so many others, I followed my father into the ministry.  And yes, I had a very personal call to go into ministry.  Yet, I often wonder if my father made me more likely to hear, and have the tools to respond to that call.

For most of my ministry, every Sunday afternoon, I would call and we would talk about church.  I sometimes ponder if that didn’t add to his longing to be young again and back in the trenches.  The hardest thing for me, in my last few years in active ministry was not to have him to talk to on a regular basis.

As I enter into my sunset years, I am forced to contemplate the what if’s of my life.  How different it would have been if things had happened differently.  I was on a dangerous path when we lived in Roselle, and was given a new chance when we moved to Glenview in 1972.  If that had not happened — I cannot even imagine where my life would have ended up.  What if my dad decided to risk everything and move to Florida like he really wanted?  What if the bishop had forced my dad to move to Court Street in Elgin in the mid 70’s while I would have been in High School?

When I look back, I see the wisdom that my father possessed in navigating the treacherous waters of the UMC.  Maybe that is why, when I decided to answer my call to ministry, he strongly encouraged me to leave the UMC and find a home in a different denomination.  Obviously I didn’t, but 40 years later, I can acknowledge his wisdom.

I went to Duke Divinity School because I wanted to reclaim my southern roots.  Instead I found a life partner in Nancy.

I miss my dad every day.  He was (is) my rock.  But one of the blessings that has happened since his death is how close I have become with my mother.  When I would call when my dad was alive, my mother and I had only brief conversations on the phone.  And when I would visit, my father enjoyed being the center of attention.  But now, my mom and I have really grown.  Nancy and I moved back to the Chicagoland area to be closer to her.  I try to visit every week, and we chat regularly.  And the biggest bonus has been getting to know her life story more closely.  My dad wrote out his story, and I am working on putting it into a shareable form for the family.  But my mom didn’t have the opportunity to share her story as much.  Now I am learning it.

Saturday, we drove out to Rockford to spend some time with her sister, my Aunt Doris.  On Sunday, February 19th she celebrated her 102!! Birthday.  She cannot get around much, but her mind is sharp and I love listening to my mom and her tell stories.  My cousin Jerry was also there with his wife Joan, and his son Josh and his wife Kelli.  It was so much fun.

Happy Birthday Doris and Fred

Africatown, a story that needs to be told

Wow, I am not even sure where to start.  Africatown is a well written, disturbing book that reminds us that we still have a long way to go.  The story of the shipmates and how they were captured in Africa and brought to Alabama despite the illegality of importing slaves is a sad chapter in our history.  I was reminded again and again that slavery, discrimination and bigotry did not end with the Civil War.  

While the story of their journey on the Clotilda was  heartbreaking, it was the resilience of the shipmates that is the real story.  Despite the continued marginalization of the residence of Plateau and Magazine, Alabama the story has remained to be told.  I think what struck me the most was the reluctance of the Reagan Administration (Particularly Secretary of the Interior James Watt) to recognize the importance of Africatown, and how this was not a unique story.

in 1972, the National Park Service gave a private group, the Afro-American Bicentennial Corporation, the funding to carry out a sweeping survey of these landmarks. An early ABC report made a stinging critique of the park system’s criteria for designating historic sites. “It is organized to cover American history from a white American’s perspective,” the group wrote in 1973. “There appears to be a marked reluctance on the part of NPS to openly deal with some of the less appealing aspects of American history, especially slavery … Although the past cannot be changed, it can be honestly faced, and the future can be made differently.”

It is not an easy, or light read, but I highly recommend Nick Taylor’s book Africatown, and as a result I am sure I will do more reading on the last slave ship that came to the USA.

My only complaint about this edition of the book (uncorrected digital copy) is the failure to link footnotes and the occasional need for editing.  I received this book for free for an unbiased review.

#Africatown

#NickTabor