Times that I was very proud of my Father

 Stephen Nagle

 

In the late 50’s Dad, Tom, Ann and I drove to Florida.  Mom was pregnant and flew to meet us there.  My most vivid memories of that trip revolved around the Jim Crow south.  Dad spoke much about discrimination, prejudice and equality on that drive.  He told us stories about the courageous civil rights workers and the hateful bigots who beat them.  My brother, sister and I learned about President Eisenhower sending troops into Little Rock so kids could go to school.  Dad pointed out the horrible sharecropper housing along the way.  In the back seat of that green 57’ Ford, I dropped my career plans of being a Swiss Vatican Guard.  I wanted to be a Freedom Rider.  At one filling station, Dad opened the door of the “colored” unisex restroom, so we could see the inoperable plumbing and filthy conditions.  Dad had words with the redneck proprietor.  “That bathroom is a disgrace.  Why don’t you clean it up?”.  Years passed before I was old enough to appreciate the courage Dad displayed in that confrontation. 

 

During a seesaw St. Vincent’s father/son basketball game, Dad sunk a hook shot from the top of the key at the buzzer to give the dads a one-point victory.  It was a marvelous shot.  That was long before camcorders, but that looping bank shot remains in my memory.

 

On the St Vincent’s playground, one of my schoolmates was endlessly bragging about his dad having been a professional football player and was then a television football announcer.  After five minutes, my classmate Ray Garris shut him up by saying “So what? Steve’s Dad could be president if he wanted to”

 

I was so proud when Dad was invited to John Kennedy’s Inauguration.  I carried the invitation to school for a week, partly to show off to my friends, but mostly because I just liked holding it.  I could visualize John and Jackie Kennedy hovered over lists and envelopes at their kitchen table.  Jackie asked “Did you remember to invite Jack and Destie Nagle?”.  “Of course” the President answered.

 

We used to watch Dad at the driving range where Northpark Mall is now located.  Dad hit golf balls further than anyone. The drives illuminated by the range floodlights, hung in the Iowa sky, getting smaller and smaller.

 

Late one night in a nearly deserted vista car on train headed east, the conductor needlessly harassed a sleeping young black child.  Dad jumped out of his seat and into the conductor’s face, I mean really in his face.  “That kid isn’t hurting anyone.  Leave him alone! Don’t you have something better to do? Pick on someone your own size. You big Bully!”.   There was no one on the train the size of that nasty conductor, but for a moment it seemed like that large uniformed man was going to be hurled through the skylight onto the Pennsylvania countryside.

 

In June 1970, I was detained by the Davenport Police as a material witness to a shooting.   I was a completely innocent bystander, but it was hard to tell that by the way the cops were treating me.  Dad arrived minutes later and whispered to me through the bars.  Three times the cops told Dad to move on and Dad just waved them off.  When the Sergeant persisted, Dad wearing slippers and a suit coat over a pajama top glared at the cop and put an edge on his voice.  “I am this man’s attorney.  I will tell you when I am finished”.  It got quiet, then the cop backed off,  just like the conductor a decade earlier.

 

In August 1970 Dad stood in the dining room of Captain Dee’s Minnesota resort and challenged the rest of the guests and the staff to a softball game.   A couple hours later he coached his ten children in a decisive victory over an older stronger team.

 

I have mentioned every incident I recall when Dad publicly raised his voice. Boys like to see their dads as the white knight with an attitude.  I know now that it is his articulate, confident, manner and his good example that has the greater impact.

 

John Nagle does good work.  His best work is performed without personal gain.  St Vincent's, TRAIN, Marycrest, the Democratic Party and numerous other organizations benefited from his leadership.  I was so proud to see him at the podium giving speeches for CEF and other groups.  It is so interesting to watch Dad operate in political settings.  At local political forums Dad encouraged candidates and gently coached them on delivery.  Dad is the shrewdest and most effective parliamentarian I have ever witnessed.  Dad didn’t always prevail but he always made a difference.   Once in the late 60’s I accompanied Dad to a district Democratic convention in Iowa City.  Although I wasn’t nearly old enough to vote, I was seated as a delegate.  When the convention broke into walking sub caucuses, Dad told me to pick a candidate and see if I could help, my pick not his.   I still do that.  So many candidates, issues, meetings, conventions, literature drops, forums, debates, bean feeds, chili suppers, caucuses, speeches, picnics........., it seemed like Dad was running all those things in one way or another.

 

I am most proud that Dad married Mom.  Dad is so cool, almost as cool as Mom.  I love them both so much.