re: Most impressive thing you watched your dad do

Some idiot said something sexual to my mom at the beach and my dad head butted the guy right in his nose. Huge explosion of blood..pretty much broke the guys face crumpled on the ground. Kinda makes my stomach turn but was badass

I was really young, and he had taken the family to Ponchartrain beach. After a full day we were headed to the parking lot.

I remember all the sudden my mom was rushing me into the car, and we locked the car doors.

Apparently, a couple of dudes were messing with mom. Getting a little grabby or something. I was too oblivious to notice exactly what they said or did but it enraged Dad.

Within seconds of getting stuffed in the car, fists were flying. I remember Dad jumping up onto the hood of the car and delivering powerful kicks that would make Chuck Norris proud. The fight was over shortly after. Dad got into the car with only a busted lip. I never saw the aftermath but I’m sure they were left with a new perspective on respect.

Not the most impressive thing, but something I remember. We were waiting at a traffic light, and in the median there was a teen robbing this woman. She was holding on to her purse and frantically trying to get away. Dad opened the car door, stepped out and started walking towards the scuffle. The thief immediately lost the will to steal and ran away.

In a line of cars he was the only man willing to fight for some random woman.

Dad was not a mean man, quite kind actually, but possessed an aura of confidence and intimidation that suggested you didn’t want to upset him.

I didn’t actually see it but my dad was drafted to go to Vietnam. My grandfather had become disabled and by that time my father basically took care of everything around their little farm. My grandfather went to see the judge at our parish courthouse and was able to secure the paperwork dismissing my dad from his draft status because he basically provided for the family. My dad ripped the papers in half believing he could never live with himself if he didn’t go. He went to Fort Polk and served for a year, combat infantry in 1969.

When I was 6 or 7 my dad lost his job with Coca Cola and went to work for the city water department. He was the low man so he was on Call for Christmas weekend. This was back in 76, We had one of the coldest on record in North GA and icing everywhere. He'd had been out digging up and repairing leaking water lines since before day break on Christmas morning. He came into my Grandmothers around lunch, His clothes were iced up and frozen stiff. He grabbed a hot shower and a quick Christmas lunch and went right back out in the cold repairing leaks until late that evening. My Mother made us wait until he got home to open our gifts...took me seeing him come in looking like that to make me understand why she did that

He taught me exactly how not to be a good father.

Raised 3 hard headed sons and loved his grandchildren.

When I was 12 our backyard was the site of football and baseball games and
there was a group of 8 boys who would come over every day and we would play.

A new neighbor put up a fence between the two yards and one day a football ended up in his yard. Neighbor was outside and picked up the ball and I said show us how you pass. He turned and walked into his house with the ball. I went and knocked on his door and when he answered I asked for the ball. He said it was in his yard and it was now his.

When dad came home I told him what had happened. He did not say a word but got his post hole digger and a 4x4 post and went to our front yard. Our drive way was a big u shape from the street and the former neighbor had used our entrance as his exit.

New neighbor came out and asked my dad what he was doing. and my dad said he wanted to show me the boundary of the yards by building a fence so i would know that any ball that crossed would belong to the neighbor. That is when the neighbor realized he could not use our
drive way to exit his yard. He disappeared and came out and said, " catch", and he threw me the football.

That is when I realized my dad was a smart man. He took care of the iproblem without saying a word.

My dad has been a musician since he was 16. He was a natural phenom sax player and the band he played for would sneak him through the back door of bars and on to the stage to wail on his horn. He graduated from LSU as a music major and played in bands up and down the gulf coast. He even sat in with bands like Blood Sweat and Tears and John Fred and the Playboys and studied under Bill Conti, the guy who wrote the Rocky soundtrack.

But as a kid, he was just my dad. He taught band at Dutchtown and then Central during the week, and played music on the weekends. I knew that, but never really knew what it meant. To me, he was a strict but loving father who insisted on good grades, good behavior, and was not my "friend". He was a leader and disciplinarian. My friends all respected him and were kind of scared of him. He was in no way the "cool, dad".

Fast forward to 1984 when the World's Fair was in New Orleans. The band my dad was playing in got a gig at the Australian bar there called "Joey's". They like the band so much they booked them for the whole fair.

My highschool class scheduled a trip to the Fair and I told my dad we'd be there that Saturday. He asked the bar owner if it would be possible for me and a few of my friends to come in and see the performance. The Aussi bar owner said "As long as they don't drink I don't see why not mate."

So, my friends and I spent the day at the fair, and as the sun set over the Mississippi, we made our way to Joey's. It was our first time in a bar, we were high school Juniors. Right off, we see three drunkass Aussies stacking Foster's Lager oil can empties into a giant pyramid. Like something from a movie. The bandstand is dark and we find my mom and aunt and uncle and wait for the show. The music starts, some Same and Dave style old school rock and roll and the spots begin to light up each band member. Guitarist is ripping, drummer and bass are locked in, trumpet and trombone ramp up, and then the main spot hits this guy wearing dark shades and a hat low, RAILING on the saxophone. He's the fricking star and people are freaking out. It's insane. His solo melts glass.

And he's my dad. The guy who whipped me when I made a C in math. The guy who dragged us to middle school band concerts that were as square as they get. The guy who played catch with me. The guy who made me cut the grass in the rain because I was a lazyass. THAT guy was the coolest motherfrickker in the place. My friends and I were dumbfounded. We all just stood there staring. Aussie girls were screaming at him and dancing to his every note.

It hit me like a freight train. My dad wasn't just this figure of discipline and authority, he was a living breathing person, with a life that was not that of my father. I will never forget that moment of realization.

He's very humble and would never say it, but my uncle told me that in the 60s and 70s he was considered one of the best sax players in the south. Big bands tried to get him to come on the road and tour with them. He always said no because he had a family. He passed on potential stardom to make sure my mom and brother and I had a father and husband in the home.

Since that night I've always said, my dad is ten times cooler than I could ever dream to be.

My father, after cheating on his wife (and 3 kids at home) with a 17 year old girl (my mother) and knocking her up with me, somehow managed to stay married to his wife and have no involvement in my life whatsoever, no child support, no obligations, no accountability. Pretty impressive.