Last month, in honor of Mother’s Day, we asked some of our editors to tell us a bit about what made their mothers special. This month, we’d be remiss if we didn’t give equal time (and love) to our dads. Here’s what some of our staff had to day about theirs:
“My middle name is my father’s first name (he passed away February 6, 2011). When I was in elementary school, I was embarrassed about it because it was different, so I used to tell the other kids it was ‘Brian.’ I love that it’s my middle name as an adult, however, as it adds weight and style to my byline. ‘Article by John Brian Turiano?’ Ha! I don’t think so.”
—Senior Editor John Bruno Turiano
“We may all think this, but my dad truly is the nicest guy in the world, and does anything and everything for the people he loves. As kids, he drove us all over the tri-state area to gymnastics meets, baseball games, music recitals, parties, et cetera. (without ever complaining), and taught us the most important lessons by his example; today, he continues to offer unconditional love and support for all our endeavors, and now schleps his grandchildren all over the tri-state area. He also unwittingly set my husband up for failure (sorry, Hon!) by being the most helpful, hands-on dad and husband imaginable.”
—Features Editor Amy R. Partridge
“When I think of my father, I remember his boundless love for my mother, my brothers, and me, and I think of class, character, integrity, and honesty. His parents were Russian immigrants, and, though he never had the opportunity to go to college, he was a natural intellectual with a thirst for knowledge. ‘Who reads Dostoyevsky for enjoyment?’ my mom would say. There was a great dynamic in our house: my loving, jolly, warm-hearted mother, and my straitlaced, Old World, kind but firm father, whom my mother always said had ‘Gregory Peck’s looks and Abraham Lincoln’s personality.’ Sometimes it was like watching Stiller and Meara.”
—Chief Copy Editor Carol Caffin
“My dad and I made the best video-game-beating team, going back all the way to text-based games like Zork or adventure games like King’s Quest. Something about the opposite ways our brains work made us really good at untangling puzzles together. (I’d never admit it to him at the time, but he has a more analytical mind than I do.) I haven’t really kept up with video games much, but I feel bad that the ones I see today don’t look like they’d be something a father and a daughter would do together, filling up tons of pieces of scrap paper with problem-solving notes.”
—Articles Editor Marisa LaScala
“My dad taught me not only how to play baseball and throw a curveball, but to love the sport—in particular, the Detroit Tigers. It was very fitting that the last conversion I had with him before he died was about baseball. It was a spur-of-the-moment call while I was waiting for a train in Baltimore. I had just attended an Orioles/Tigers came at Camden Yards—and I knew he would get a kick out that. And he did. I can still hear his hearty, warm and infectious laugh.”
—Managing Editor Kathryn Walsh
“Baseball Coach Sal was a knowledgeable, passionate, critical, hard-working baseball coach. And when Baseball Coach Sal is your father, that means that he, and everything that comes with him, comes with you—all the way to the dinner table. At the time, you dwell on the ‘cheap-shot’ comments about an error you made (oh, there were plenty), but it’s funny how somehow, some way, your memory fleets. Now I find myself strictly recalling all those dinners after I had a great game (not as many). I also have that passion and work ethic. He used the one thing he knows to turn me into who I am, and I suppose I ain’t too bad. Perhaps he knows more than I thought.”
—Digital Editor Nicholas Gallinelli
“My father is the most courageous person I know: test pilot, master of acrobatics, and flying teacher. He taught me how to be tough and independent. He rarely took ‘no’ for an answer and nothing was impossible once he put his mind to it. He showed me what passion is about: something that you are driven by but also something that consumes you to the point that you forget about the world around you. He also showed me that we don’t have to be in the same town to still be there for each other. Endless letters from his travels—be it to Africa, Asia or South America—always kept us
immersed in his world. These days I’m the one far away from home, sending pictures to keep him abreast of my endeavors. A thousand miles doesn’t affect our great relationship. I know I can always count on him.”
—Deputy Creative Director Halina Weker-Sabath
Whether you’re known as Dad, Daddy, Pop, Poppy, Pa, Papa, Old Man, or another term of endearment, we wish you a very happy Father’s Day.
