They belonged to the “Greatest Generation”; we, their sons, are Baby Boomers. They wore hats, except at home and in church, and kept their hair meticulous; we wore jeans everywhere and let our hair grow long. They unwound with Martinis and Manhattans; we altered consciousness with substances not found in liquor (or drug) stores. Many of them fought proudly in World War II (“The Good War”) or in Korea; many of us made every effort not to serve in Vietnam.
Our fathers were bakers and career soldiers, farmers and cabinetmakers, salesmen and machinists, and, in a few cases, doctors and lawyers. Some were first- or second-generation immigrants, learning new languages and customs that must have seemed overwhelming but did not, in the end, overwhelm them. Their generation is a tapestry of hard work, material need, and the determination to provide a better future for their families. Their successes provided the foundation for our own very different career paths. We attended college or undertook other postsecondary education, finding the prosperity and upward mobility that fulfilled our fathers’ dreams for us. In today’s uncertain times, we can only hope that future generations will be so fortunate.
These twenty-two “micro memoirs” of fathers and sons depict a remarkable period in American history. They explore universal topics like sports and education, politics and religion, war and peace, work and finances, and paternal discipline (typically intertwined with paternal love). At the same time, every story has its own shape, its own insights, and its own outcomes. There are moments of encountering the famous: a soon-to-be movie and recording star, an unstoppable sports champion, a President offering a handshake, an iconic jazz drummer, and even an experience at Woodstock. But it is in the seemingly ordinary details of these lives that the truly important stories reside.
Many of us feel deep, unbroken connections to our fathers; some went through periods of alienation and reconciliation; and still others irretrievably lost that bond to the man they called “Dad.” Their stories and ours are inextricably tied together. We know less about their lives than we want to, often constrained by roles (and rules) of their era that hold far less sway with us and our offspring in current times.
Mothers, siblings, and grandparents are typically part of these stories as well. However, our primary focus is on the interplay between fathers and the sons they helped raise. In the beginning, they were towering figures, sometimes near, often away, and always invoked by our mothers. “Just wait ’til your father gets home” was a universal, and momentarily existential, threat. Our mothers, whether they worked in or outside the home, assumed much of the burden of our daily care. As we’ve aged, our appreciation of our mothers, grandparents, and other caregivers has become even greater.
The subtitle of this book, “A Tip of the Hat”, is an affectionate nod to an important part of the dress codes adopted by our fathers. As noted above, men of that generation wore hats everywhere. Except for those of us who have taken to wearing baseball caps—more for sun protection than for fashion—we did not follow in their sartorial ways. But we salute this particular symbol of their era—just as many in our successor generation, the Millennials, have embraced those same fedoras, Stetsons, and the like.
We, the sons, have undertaken this journey of reminiscence to illuminate and perhaps encapsulate what our fathers have meant to us. We invite you, our readers, to join us on this voyage of rediscovery. Perhaps you will also find the inspiration to explore the warmth, the conflicts, and the legacies that your fathers—and your families—have meant to you.
