My father Archester Young was born on 10/10/1913 in a small town called Florence in the state of Mississippi. Born a mere 48 years after Lincoln freed black Americans it was a different time...freedom even then was just a word that had not been defined. As a boy my father grew up with the South's Jim Crow law's that successfully segregated our country and like many black families (and many other nationalities) was impacted by the harshness of discrimination and the bias of the times. My father was an excellent baseball player who played in the Negro Leagues of the south as well as was drafted into the Army. He moved North To New York In the late 1940's my mother and he had already met. I was born in 1954 and life stayed pretty up and down as thing's go. My point in all this is that I never really quite understood my Dad until I took the time to spend those last years with him before he died...I always loved my father and because of that I never really had to approve of the choices he made in his life (many I disagreed about.(I understand today it really was none of my business)Today I remember that my father Loved me and not because he gave me stuff...(the most money my dad ever gave me was $20.00)no cars and thing's like that but he gave me his opinions and thoughts, he showed me his hopes and his fears and weather or not I agreed or disagreed he caused me to reflect think and pray. My dad may not have been perfect by many standards but he was perfect for me. For without him there is no me. I know my father Loved me and I know he is always there., even till this day when I need him. I am blessed to have known him and even more blessed to be a part of him. I Love You Dad.
No comments:
Post a Comment