A Tribute to My Father

Wednesday would have been my father's 100th birthday (March 19, 1914--March 19, 2014)! He was the finest man I have ever known, and even after I outgrew his 5' 7", I still looked up to him. I miss him everyday.
My earliest memory of him was the day he came home from the Great War and I saw this strange man grab and kiss my mother. Even though he was married with a child, he still considered it his patriotic duty to volunteer and serve his country. When it was over, he never glorified the war or mentioned it to me other than the time I asked him where he served. He was the ideal citizen soldier (he served in the Navy), and whether he agreed or not, he supported me in my conscientious objection to Vietnam.
Nine months and five minutes later :) my sister was born. They had a special bond (like Mother and I did) that showed me his warm and gentle side. He taught me how to ride a bike, take care of puppies, build model airplanes, and shoot a gun. Some of our best times were early morning breakfasts and waiting together in the deer stand. His trophies were limited, mine nonexistent.
He took me to the library for my first book about the birds and bees and taught me how to drive, leaving me alone to drive home after getting my licence at age 14. He was a teacher par excellence, remembered and revered by generations of veterans on the GI bill and high school students. Nothing escaped his ever watchful gaze, earning him the nickname "Hawkeye" around school.
Most of all he taught me integrity and deeply held moral values. He was not above admitting mistakes and changing his mind when convicted of the right. I remember him saying in 1954 that if the schools were ever integrated, he would stop teaching. Well, they were and he continued sharing his wisdom and talents and skills with the next generations. He put his arms around me when a cross was burned in our front yard because of my youthful idealism, and he ended his professional life as the director of a predominantly black technical college in Beaufort, SC.
My father was a passionately, deeply religious man, on the conservative side (son of a country Baptist preacher), and quiet in his political convictions. He led by example: gentle, strong, caring, devoted. He could say "I love you" without hesiation, and even as adults, we kissed and hugged.
Harold Elijah Littleton, Sr. father and friend      I miss you!