© 2016 By Bob Litton. All Rights Reserved.
Well, today it is raining. How appropriate and welcome! For it is Father’s Day, too.
Among the Ten Commandments recorded in the Old Testament, is the directive “Honor your father and mother…”. Half the sources list this commandment as the fourth, and half include it as the fifth. Whatever.
In the past, I have pondered the question: What if your parents are not honorable? Surely the sons and daughters of historical tyrants and criminals must scratch their heads over that. As for me, I feel that Mama was worthy of honoring despite her social lapses and strong prejudices. Pappy, on the other hand, has been a puzzle for me; he was always rooting for me from a distance; but he was hot-headed, and he was morally and ethically weak. After he died, Mama, in a fit of anger, informed me that he was “a coward”, citing as her justification for this allegation that he had asked her to support his request for exemption from the draft during World War II on the basis that he had three sons to care for. (They had divorced in 1942.)
There is no way I can confirm the truth of Mama’s claim: it is a conundrum for me. Pappy was big, his attitude was often belligerent, and he had worked all his life among rough men. My sister-in-law informed me recently that, according to my brother Vernon, Pappy had left the Rio Grande Valley for Dallas “because he had almost killed a man down there”. When I pressed her for more details, she said that was all she had heard from Vernon, “just bits and pieces”. Then there was Mama’s judgment.
That cowardice business is just one interesting piece of information I have happened on since I wrote my first blog post about Pappy. Another came to me indirectly from a “book” by and about one of my uncles, Carl Lee Tanberg, who remained in the Valley all his life. One of his three daughters sent it to me. She had given him the blank book with a request that he write down all the memories that he thought would be interesting to his family and others. (I had given Mama a blank book also, but she never wrote anything in it.) Carl Lee was a fairly gifted raconteur and writer. One sentence in that book jumped off the page at me: “Maurine ran off with Bill Litton.” They eloped?! Mama, of course, being a bit strait-laced in her maturer years, never mentioned that episode; in fact, she never confided anything about their courtship to me other than, in answer to my idle question of how they had met, she replied, “O, everybody in a small town like that knows everybody.” The sentence in my cousin’s book indicated to me that my grandfather, and probably my grandmother as well, did not approve of Pappy. Since Mama was born in 1910 and my brother Vernon was born in 1928, Mama could not have been older than eighteen when she and Pappy ran off to get married.
Many people, including most of my own family, would hide anecdotes such as these; but, like my uncle Carl Lee, I don’t believe in white-washing family history, primarily because it is just such “bits and pieces” which make a family history engrossing, and usually entertaining, reading. Contrasted with the images of Mama and Pappy I have had all my life, I think the elopement story is hilarious.
This will probably be my last Father’s Day blog post…at least about my own father. I don’t know anything else about him that I haven’t already related. Although he won’t rate highly on any sensible scale of fatherhood, he was a fascinatingly colorful figure. He is a most suitable subject for moral and ethical reflection.