It seems fitting to write about my dad on this date since he passed away 31 years ago today.
Raymond Warren Spalding was a simple man from simple roots born in a time of great national distress and family discord. He was a loving son, husband, father, and grandfather during his life and was a man fired in the times of his youth to work hard for his family.
His father abandoned the family when he was 5 years old and he never had a role model that he could look back on to show him how to be a dad.
He loved his mother fiercely and quit high school at age 14 to go to work to support her and the family. We never returned to his studies except for a correspondence course in accounting that he took after World War II. His devotion to his mother was transferred upon her death in 1948 to my mom and there never appeared to be a wavering in that area of his life.
He was 5’7” tall and maybe 125 pounds sopping wet. His height was never a factor in his life and he was even a champion ballroom dancer in his early days. He never wanted for a dance when he and mom went out and he could dance all night, per mom. I only saw him dance a few times but I knew I was adopted after seeing him on the dance floor and knowing my limited dancing capabilities.
My dad was a good dad but not a great one. Now that sounds bad at first blush but he never had the tools to be a dad and I do not fault him for that even today. His main focus was to go to work, make money for his family and live as well as he could while he was here. In that sense he had the great World War II work ethic and he should be honored for that but his input at home would have gone a long ways in changing the family dynamic in our house.
Dad was a soft spoken person who never really said too much but when he did people listened to him, intently. I still remember conversations that we had that showed me the great intelligence that he had and even the softer side of him. He didn’t let many people see it because it made him to vulnerable and that was a place he did not like to be in at all but he was a wise man to me and his input meant a great deal to me. During a particularly trying time in my life he told me,” Don’t ever lie but don’t ever offer too much information either”. I still remember the surprise hearing that type of earthly wisdom coming from him because it was what I needed to know exactly at the time.
What I needed most from him was protection from the emotional outburst of my mother and he was not there to help me. He worked Monday through Friday from 7-6:00pm and a half day on Saturday too. He didn’t have to work on Saturdays but he did all the time I was at home. It was interesting that most of my mother’s outburst were timed to coincide with the time dad was gone from the house.
He was an accounting person for most companies that he worked for and held titles like Controller, Office Manager and such. He was greatly admired by his office staff and he was always included in after hour parties and get togethers.
He was blind to the race factor of the 60s and that was quite a feat since most of his staff were minorities but he treated them all fairly and expected no more or less from any one of them then the rest of the staff. His even disposition made for a quiet workplace.
My dad was the first “Chick magnet” I ever knew. The women loved him. My girlfriends were so enamored with him and I just sat and watched in amazement. His quiet demeanor was just amazing to watch and it wasn’t put on…it was the real thing but he never disrespected my mom, in fact, she thought it was quite hilarious how women found him so attractive.
Dad had a temper though and although it wasn’t displayed often he could light up a room with it when he really got angry. Thank goodness I didn’t cross that threshold too often, only one time when I took his radio apart to see how it worked. He got so mad he slammed the door and forgot to take his pinkie finger out of it first and broke it. It was a tense few weeks in the house after that and I stopped electronic exploration of the household appliances.
Dad was a voracious smoker, one of those that started early in life and tried to quit but just couldn’t so it. I always felt that his attempts to quit were half hearted at best except when cancer crept into his life. He got lung cancer in his mid 50s and received radiation treatment and per his doctor the treatments were successful and he was told to go home and live his life. He hadn’t smoked for some time during this time but that was not to last for too much longer. Sadly, at age 59 he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. His first radiation treatment was on his grandson, Brandon’s “birth” day.
The latter years of dad’s life were sad ones to me because his physical condition deteriorated because of the radiation treatments and other health factors just became too much to bear.
He lived long enough to see and be with his grandson and I think that gave him a sense of peace. I think knowing that the Spalding name would continue another generation gave him some small sense of satisfaction.
A decision was made by mom and him to move to Fort Collins, Colorado to be closer to family that could assist them during this time. As much as Paula and I tried to be there for them; it just wasn’t possible on the level they needed that it could be done…so they moved. This fulfilled a promise that dad made to mom in 1948 when they moved to California to take care of his mother…”I will take you home to Colorado someday”, and he did.
Dad passed away on June 30, 1978 at 4:00am with mom and me in the room. I was holding his hand.
As we were leaving the hospital and walking to the car my mom said something so profound that I still am amazed today at its utterance, “He died like a true accountant; he died of the last day of the financial year”.
The impact that dad had on me is not so much the material things that I had growing up but rather the quiet support that he gave me during my years at home. He did instill in me certain principals that I still live by today and I am grateful.
My sorrow with dad was his inability to quit smoking and make a life for himself with his grandchildren. He would have so loved them just as he loved Brandon. He was tentative around him because he lacked experience with babies but the few pictures that we have you can see the pride in his face when he was with him. There was so much more for him the see and experience and even today, Brianne and Holly both mention Pop-po and say how much they would have liked to meet him and he would have like that a lot, I know.
My epitaph as a dad is yet to be written but I know when it is some of it will be a reflection on my dad and the impact he had in my life. While I coveted more of his time and attention; I know he gave me the best that he could and I need to be grateful for that and not center on the “what-if” factor of the relationship. But even in the looking back this many years after he left me I can truly say that I am proud to have been his son and I will do what I can to honor his memory in the future.
Raymond Warren Spalding was a simple man from simple roots born in a time of great national distress and family discord. He was a loving son, husband, father, and grandfather during his life and was a man fired in the times of his youth to work hard for his family.
His father abandoned the family when he was 5 years old and he never had a role model that he could look back on to show him how to be a dad.
He loved his mother fiercely and quit high school at age 14 to go to work to support her and the family. We never returned to his studies except for a correspondence course in accounting that he took after World War II. His devotion to his mother was transferred upon her death in 1948 to my mom and there never appeared to be a wavering in that area of his life.
He was 5’7” tall and maybe 125 pounds sopping wet. His height was never a factor in his life and he was even a champion ballroom dancer in his early days. He never wanted for a dance when he and mom went out and he could dance all night, per mom. I only saw him dance a few times but I knew I was adopted after seeing him on the dance floor and knowing my limited dancing capabilities.
My dad was a good dad but not a great one. Now that sounds bad at first blush but he never had the tools to be a dad and I do not fault him for that even today. His main focus was to go to work, make money for his family and live as well as he could while he was here. In that sense he had the great World War II work ethic and he should be honored for that but his input at home would have gone a long ways in changing the family dynamic in our house.
Dad was a soft spoken person who never really said too much but when he did people listened to him, intently. I still remember conversations that we had that showed me the great intelligence that he had and even the softer side of him. He didn’t let many people see it because it made him to vulnerable and that was a place he did not like to be in at all but he was a wise man to me and his input meant a great deal to me. During a particularly trying time in my life he told me,” Don’t ever lie but don’t ever offer too much information either”. I still remember the surprise hearing that type of earthly wisdom coming from him because it was what I needed to know exactly at the time.
What I needed most from him was protection from the emotional outburst of my mother and he was not there to help me. He worked Monday through Friday from 7-6:00pm and a half day on Saturday too. He didn’t have to work on Saturdays but he did all the time I was at home. It was interesting that most of my mother’s outburst were timed to coincide with the time dad was gone from the house.
He was an accounting person for most companies that he worked for and held titles like Controller, Office Manager and such. He was greatly admired by his office staff and he was always included in after hour parties and get togethers.
He was blind to the race factor of the 60s and that was quite a feat since most of his staff were minorities but he treated them all fairly and expected no more or less from any one of them then the rest of the staff. His even disposition made for a quiet workplace.
My dad was the first “Chick magnet” I ever knew. The women loved him. My girlfriends were so enamored with him and I just sat and watched in amazement. His quiet demeanor was just amazing to watch and it wasn’t put on…it was the real thing but he never disrespected my mom, in fact, she thought it was quite hilarious how women found him so attractive.
Dad had a temper though and although it wasn’t displayed often he could light up a room with it when he really got angry. Thank goodness I didn’t cross that threshold too often, only one time when I took his radio apart to see how it worked. He got so mad he slammed the door and forgot to take his pinkie finger out of it first and broke it. It was a tense few weeks in the house after that and I stopped electronic exploration of the household appliances.
Dad was a voracious smoker, one of those that started early in life and tried to quit but just couldn’t so it. I always felt that his attempts to quit were half hearted at best except when cancer crept into his life. He got lung cancer in his mid 50s and received radiation treatment and per his doctor the treatments were successful and he was told to go home and live his life. He hadn’t smoked for some time during this time but that was not to last for too much longer. Sadly, at age 59 he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. His first radiation treatment was on his grandson, Brandon’s “birth” day.
The latter years of dad’s life were sad ones to me because his physical condition deteriorated because of the radiation treatments and other health factors just became too much to bear.
He lived long enough to see and be with his grandson and I think that gave him a sense of peace. I think knowing that the Spalding name would continue another generation gave him some small sense of satisfaction.
A decision was made by mom and him to move to Fort Collins, Colorado to be closer to family that could assist them during this time. As much as Paula and I tried to be there for them; it just wasn’t possible on the level they needed that it could be done…so they moved. This fulfilled a promise that dad made to mom in 1948 when they moved to California to take care of his mother…”I will take you home to Colorado someday”, and he did.
Dad passed away on June 30, 1978 at 4:00am with mom and me in the room. I was holding his hand.
As we were leaving the hospital and walking to the car my mom said something so profound that I still am amazed today at its utterance, “He died like a true accountant; he died of the last day of the financial year”.
The impact that dad had on me is not so much the material things that I had growing up but rather the quiet support that he gave me during my years at home. He did instill in me certain principals that I still live by today and I am grateful.
My sorrow with dad was his inability to quit smoking and make a life for himself with his grandchildren. He would have so loved them just as he loved Brandon. He was tentative around him because he lacked experience with babies but the few pictures that we have you can see the pride in his face when he was with him. There was so much more for him the see and experience and even today, Brianne and Holly both mention Pop-po and say how much they would have liked to meet him and he would have like that a lot, I know.
My epitaph as a dad is yet to be written but I know when it is some of it will be a reflection on my dad and the impact he had in my life. While I coveted more of his time and attention; I know he gave me the best that he could and I need to be grateful for that and not center on the “what-if” factor of the relationship. But even in the looking back this many years after he left me I can truly say that I am proud to have been his son and I will do what I can to honor his memory in the future.
I am sorry I never met him after reading this.
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