Shrek and Layers of an onion - Lisa Herz McCarthy

When most people think of my father they don’t typically think of him, or generally relate him, to a cartoon character or worse yet a Disney character. I think my dad was most like Shrek. Not that he was an ogre, but he could be. Stubborn. Obstinate. Hard headed. Right. Certain of himself.

However, my dad had many layers. Like an onion. As a youth in Queens, he was active in Boy Scouts achieving the rank of Eagle Scout. It was in Boy Scouts that he met Bob Fromowitz. Little did they know that at the ripe age of 10 that this was the beginning of a nearly 60 year friendship. Through thick and thin, ups and downs, I don’t think either of them would change a thing. This is two layers of the onion.

After high school and graduating from Brooklyn Tech, he and Mom moved to Binghamton. I think it was not long after Dad met Bob, he met Mom. They, Mom & Dad, got married twice.

The first time was in December 1964 by a Justice of the Peace. Mom was a bit weary that it didn’t take and insisted on being married by a Rabbi, which they did in April 1965. They bought the property and built a house on Morgan Road. Mom has a picture of herself being incredibly pregnant with me. My arrival in May 1966. In March of 1969 Jeff arrived. More layers to the onion.

My father could not fathom my lack of concrete sequential thinking. My freshman year in high school, I took my New York State Regents exam in math. Logic was the subject. If p then q = who cares. I didn’t. I had an amazing math teacher that year who began to build a bridge between my father and I that I would not appreciate until many years later when the college I attended told me that unless I took statistics I would not graduate. For me this was a potential crushing defeat. So I registered for summer school to take just that stupid statistics class. I sat in the car, registration form in hand with a start date of the following Monday. I collected myself and called my father. Not only did he have the necessary calming effect on me, but during the first week we spoke by telephone almost every day. Those phone calls were tutorial in nature and help with my homework. Not once did we raise our voices. A sweetness to the onion.
Dad was a lifelong boater. He told me stories of being a Boy Scout and sailing in Sheepshead Bay. When we went to one of the Fromowitz boys bar mitzvah we stayed in a hot sheets hotel in or near sheepshead bay. The looks we got from the guy that checked us in. More layers to the onion.

So, now a boating story. One summer, I don’t remember how old Jeff and I were, but I was old enough to drive. Jeff and I had gone to school on Friday and I was allowed to drive us to school. We went to school packed to go to the lake for the weekend. There was a rendezvous at Troy’s Marina. Our directions were, go to school (and yes Mom probably checked to make sure we arrived at school and were there all day) then go to Johnsons boat yard right after school. We were to take the boat to the north end of the lake and the parental units would drive to Troys after work and join the festivities. Jeff and I made ready the USS Ragtime, motored out the channel, hoisted sails and beat feet up the lake. It was an awesome day for a sail and were smoking up the lake. Well, ok, for Cayuga Lake we were really steaming along. We took the crook at Ma Fords and set course for Milligan station. As we approached this bend in the lake we noticed a change in the forecast. We took appropriate measures to sail through the rain and increased wind we correctly anticipated as we sailed into crumby weather. The weather cleared, we shook out the sails and continued on.

As we approached Troy’s Marina, we radioed ashore, Mom and Dad were motored out to help us anchor. Then we were all transported ashore for the bar-b-cue and other festivities. Bedtime rolls around and we are motored back to Ragtime. We ready for bed and the Ogre bellowed. Of all the things that could have gone wrong trusting 2 teen agers to transport Dad’s second largest investment the length of Cayuga Lake it was his window that we forgot to close during this torrential rain storm. More layers to the onion.

As sure as I am standing here sharing but a few stories of a man with you, I am just as sure you have your own stories of an Ogre and an onion. Boy scouts, work, power squadron, supporter of academic endeavors, supporter of our athletic activities, participant in a multitude of ways at Temple Concord, mental and emotional strength, optimism. Synonyms for more layers to the onion that was my father. Character traits in a man, of a man, who tried, with much success, to share with his wife and instill in his children. In the coming days, weeks and months, please share your stories, recollections and memories with us. Stories of the essence of who my father is, was and wanted to be. For in the future Mom, Jeff, Nancy and I will need to be as diligent as he was in passing these characteristics on to our children.