The LuLac Edition #1214, June 20th, 2010
THE Y DRIVE
On Father’s Day sometime Godfathers are forgotten. My nephew Troy never fails to forget contacting me on Dad’s day. Being a Godfather is an honor and responsibility. My Godfather was a major influence in my life. Joe Pribula my mom’s brother had not yet had kids when I was a little boy. He and his wife Jean would come down from Towanda and stay over our house on Friday nights before they met their friends and relatives in the area. My uncle always took the time to play with me. I had this set of building bricks and my buildings were pretty limited. However when Uncle Joe came by we built elaborate split level homes and once even a three car garage. (The guy was an engineer by trade but hey I was 5, I had no idea.) I remember my uncle and I being in the TV room of my house on Sunday November 24th when Jack Ruby shot Lee Oswald. (He had driven us home from church that morning). I still remember him looking at me and saying “Holy blazes did that really just happen?” I remember his outrage at Richard Nixon’s behavior before and after the President resigned. I knew my uncle was a Veteran because for a while he kept some old uniforms in our attic but I never really knew the depth of his service. Up until a few years back he attended reunions of his Army Air Corps group. (He bought his airfare from me when I worked at the pagan on line travel company). I became a Green Bay Packer fan because my uncle would bring me Packer stuff that in the 60s in Towanda, Pennsylvania was almost unheard of. Godparents are supposed to be there when your own parents die or become unable to influence you. I had the best of both worlds with my father Jake (who I have written about here many times) and my Godfather Joe Pribula. He broadened my horizons and like he carefully did with my construction toys, carefully added those real life building blocks that are still with me today.