🈁 Guest Post: Tony of A Way With Words, on His Father

photo credit: Pedro Vezini via photopin cc
photo credit: Pedro Vezini via photopin cc

My friend Tony Roberts has a way with words.

He’s a writer and a teacher. He’s also a bit of a moral policeman and the blog world is his precinct. Months ago, I posted a video of NFL assistant coach Rob Ryan on my blog. It was a short video depicting his sideline antics and Santa-esque silver flowing hair.

It contained a bad word in the title – the F word, in fact.

Tony calmly commented that it was the wrong message to send. I normally don’t use the F word – well, on my blog. Tony, being a writer and reader I respect as a mentor, has some clout when it comes to my content. Down came the F word.

I’m honored to have Tony as a guest today on the CD.

As many great men do, Tony had quite an influential father. He’s here today to tell us about his dad. After you read his story and add a comment, visit Tony’s page, A Way With Words, and learn about the memoir he’s written.

Tony Roberts
Tony’s father (left) as part of Tony’s book advisory team.

At my cousin’s graduation party, we were asked to wear alumni t-shirts. There were ones from Ohio State. IU. The University of Chicago. My dad proudly wore one that said, Jabez Elementary, Sixth-Grade Grad, Class of 1951. We told him he should wear it to the Roberts family reunion.  He declined, saying “They’ll think I’m putting on airs.”

The truth is my Dad is quite intelligent  When he was 16, his father Joe Etsy set him down and said,  “You can quit school now and become a real man. Earn money for the family.  Pay your way.”

Out of spite, mostly, Dad stayed in school and earned his high school diploma – all the while being the primary family wage earner working at a nursing home.

Dad went into the military and was stationed in Germany. He has fond memories of seeing the European countryside and meeting new people. He’ll even tell you he learned to speak German and then share his vocabulary – “Eins bier. Zwei bier. Drei bier.”

Dad got out of the service on a Saturday and went to work on a Monday at Cummins where he worked for 32 years, starting out on the burr bench and worked his way up to a Production Control Analyst, the best-paid office hourly position in the company.

Dad worked to earn a living, but he didn’t live to work. When he was off, he was off. One of his passions was getting involved in my sports. Though he knew nothing about baseball, he accepted a position as assistant coach and statistician on my little league team, the Nineveh Cubs.

Tony’s father (left) with “president” Richard Nixon.

Dad had his own way of scoring. Anytime you didn’t strike out, he counted it as a hit. I batted over .850 my rookie season.

I once calculated I played in 128 games in my basketball career and Dad attended a total of 127. He missed one because he was in the hospital after suffering a motorcycle wreck on his way to the game.

Dad wanted me to gain a good college education, but he wasn’t able to save much money to invest in it. That didn’t stop him from contributing. After I received a scholarship from Cummins worth thousands of dollars, Dad calculated the exact number of overtime hours to earn it and he worked off the clock, sometimes going in at 3 a.m.

Dad was no saint, though. For years, he drank and smoked about as hard as he worked.  It took its toll as he developed a host of other health problems. Yet, his strong will has allowed him to make necessary changes. When he was diagnosed with emphysema, he quit smoking. When he was diagnosed with diabetes, he quit drinking. Just quit. Cold turkey. And hasn’t looked back.

Now Dad lives modestly in our family home where he watches the hummingbirds out the window, rides his four wheelers through the woods, and roots Tony Stewart on to victory each week.

He’s done pretty well for a self-described “dumb old Kentuckian with a sixth-grade education.”

Dad says when he dies, he’d like to be buried on a hillside near a highway and have one of those smiley-faced waving hands on his tombstone that reads,

“I’m dead, but have a nice day.”

tony quote


  1. ksbeth says:

    wonderful. wonderful tribute to a much loved father from a much loved son )

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      makes you wonder what your kids would say about you.

    2. Thank you, ksbeth. I have much for which to be thankful.

  2. “Jabez Elementary, Sixth-Grade Grad, Class of 1951”, that’s cute.
    You know, I don’t hink any college (no offense if you are a college teacher) teaches people how to provide for your family, nurture and encourage your kids, caring about a smiley on your tombstone and other valuable stuff. Happy Father’s Day to your Dad and cheers from Germany’s neighbor country, Switzerland!

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      For Monday Night Football, some athletes will recognize their primary schools instead of their colleges. I’m sure those institutions that gave them scholarships are thrilled!

      I love getting an impression of what a dad can mean to us in our adult years, Tamara. This was a wonderful look at the phenomenon.

      So important that Tony recognized not only the failings his father had, but the sometimes unrecognized commitment to providing as best as he could for him.

    2. My father will be thrilled to hear he has a fan in Switzerland, Tamara! Thanks for the comment.

  3. E. says:

    He sounds like a great man with a will of iron. 🙂

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      Glad you enjoyed the story Erica!

    2. E., Dad is really something else, that’s for sure.

  4. Beautiful tribute and sounds like a wonderful man and father, too!! 🙂

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      Tony’s a pretty good dude, too.

    2. Thank you, Janine, for such kind and thoughtful words.

  5. Cheryl says:

    There is something so special about dads. They’re not all perfect but who is?? Mine is my rock. He keeps me grounded, feeling loved, and safe. Can’t ask for anything more than that.

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      That’s pretty solid for any dad, Cheryl. You’re a lucky girl.

    2. We are both blessed, Cheryl. Who could ask for more?

  6. NotAPunkRocker says:

    What a great post, and I do like the headstone idea 🙂

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      I hope no one steals it from him – but that he won’t need it for a great long while.

      1. NotAPunkRocker says:

        Oh, I agree. It reminds me of the obituaries in the paper that you see with all sorts of funny details. Makes you wonder if they can make a stranger smile in death, how many smiles they gave those who knew and loved them.

        Here’s to none of that needing to be even thought of anytime soon!

      2. Eli Pacheco says:

        I know, right? My luck, I’ll win the lottery, and Jesus will come back that afternoon.

    2. Maybe Dad should market tombstone smiley faces.

  7. tamaralikecamera says:

    Wonderful. And please tell me you’ll really do that smiley face sign thing?

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      I hope he won’t need it for a while, but wouldn’t that be the coolest?

    2. I’ll see what I can do. Hopefully, I can sneak it passed the tombstone police.

  8. I like that headstone. I might steal that idea! And what better way could there be to score Little League? I can’t think of one!

    1. It was great to have an .850 batting average while it lasted, that’s for sure.

    2. Eli Pacheco says:

      My Colorado Rockies could use some of that stat love, too.

  9. Reblogged this on A Way With Words and commented:
    Eli from Coach Daddy published this piece I wrote about my Dad. I hope you enjoy it and while you’re there browse around Eli’s great blog.

  10. dyane says:

    Very moving…what a stand-up father!

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      It’s the things people often don’t know about that define who a dad is, don’t you think?

      1. dyane says:

        Yes, Eli! You are so right! Thanks for the follow, by the way! I was very close to my Dad, and he was my best friend apart from my husband. He had bipolar one, and so do I. To read one of my blog posts about him (called “Dad” fittingly enough) you can go straight to http://proudlybipolar.wordpress.com/2014/01/06/dad/

    2. Thank you, dyane. I’m thankful we can both celebrate our fathers.

  11. My grandmother used the expression, “… putting on airs” all of the time. That really brought a smile to my face to remember her saying that! Tony’ s father sounds like a great guy.

    1. Eli Pacheco says:

      Thanks a grandmotherly/grandfatherly thing to say, isn’t it? I wonder what they’ll say that we do all the time, when we’re grandmotherly/grandfatherly.

      Glad you liked the post, Deb!

    2. Dad has many favorite expressions like that one. One he’ll say if he’s paying someone a top compliment is, “He’s just as common as an old shoe.”

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