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My Dad (a eulogy)

LostInTyme

A-List Customer
I am not sure this is right post here, or, whether it will be viewed or accepted. I just wanted to let everyone know a little about my Dad. (I am brand new here, and really don't know the ropes quite yet)


Allan lived 101 years. His mom died a week after his birth and he was raised by his Grandmother and an uncle, Robert Sonderman. Uncle Rob is who I was named for.

He devoted his adult life to Arline, his love, and his life’s partner, and, my Mom. After she passed, Arline was still in Allan’s mind constantly.

I remember him as a stern taskmaster, especially when it came to spelling and math flash cards. For this reason I am a great speller today and can do fractions in my head.

In later life Al liked to talk, and if there was a room full of people, he was always happy to let everyone know his opinion, and he had a lot of opinions.

Another thing he liked was to tell a good joke. One in particular was his favorite, and he told it often. I am going to try to retell it here, but I am afraid I won’t be able to do it quite like my Dad told it. Here goes:

A man goes into a store to purchase a new suit. He sees one he likes and asks the salesman if they have it in his size. The salesman measures him finds a suit on the rack and brings it to the man to try on.

The man goes into the dressing room, removes his clothes and tries on the new suit. It doesn't feel quite right to him but he goes out to view the suit in the large mirror in the showroom. When he looks in the mirror the man is appalled at how poorly the suit fits. One sleeve is too long, the other is too short, One pant leg is too short and the other has the pleat and crease off center to the outside. One shoulder is too high and the other is missing the padding.

When the man mentions all this to the salesman, he responds that perhaps a few adjustments could be made.

The salesman says for the long sleeve, the man should just drop his shoulder a bit on that side. Doing this, the sleeve appears to now fit. For the short sleeve, the man needs to pull his other arm up a bit. On the short pant leg, the man only needs to bend the other leg a bit, and since that pant leg is turned to the outside, the man needs to just twist his leg a bit to compensate. And since the shoulders are improper, the man needs to lean a bit to the right.

When all this is accomplished, the salesman has the man look again into the mirror and, voila, the suit now fits perfectly!
Satisfied, the man buys the suit and wears it to go home.

While walking down the street and making all the corrections for his ill-fitting suit, a couple of ladies passing by notice him. The first one says "Oh just look at that poor crippled man trying to walk down the street, all hunched over, twisted and limping."

The second one says, "Yes, but look how nice his suit fits."

You may have noticed that Allan isn’t currently wearing a suit. After evaluating everything, we felt his remaining suit really didn’t fit all that well.

Allan was always dressed well when the occasion called for it.

Now, since I went off on this joke about clothes, you may be wondering why in the heck am I wearing a white sport coat. Well, here is my story:

In 1957, Marty Robbins sang a song, titled A White Sport Coat, and a Pink Carnation. I was 11 years old back then. I begged my Mom and Dad for a White Sport Coat to wear to our spring school dance.

My Dad and Mom searched the entire greater Cleveland area but were never able to find a true White Sport Coat. You see, Cleveland was not the fashion Mecca back in those days that it is today. So, here today, in 2020, only 63 years later, I am the proud owner of a White Sport Coat, and I wear it in honor of Allan’s and Arline’s furtive search way back when.

Our Mom And Dad did a lot for both Lisa and me, and although they were never rich, they gave us a good life, and I offer my thanks to them both, here in front of everyone.

Allan left behind several neckties. I am wearing one, and, to honor him, my sons, and their families are each wearing of Allan’s ties.
 
Last edited:

vitanola

I'll Lock Up
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Gopher Prairie, MI
That’s a beautiful remembrance of your father. It almost makes one feel that they’ve met him.

That said, in 1957 Cleveland was one of the great Men’s Wear manufacturing centers in the world. Two of the largest purveyors of popular priced ready-to-wear suits, Joseph and Feiss, and Richman Brothers, made their products in Cleveland. I know that Richman was selling off-white dinner jackets in 1958, for my father’s groomsmen bought their clothes there. That said, a shawl collar dinner jacket will hardly serve as a sport jacket. I doubt that anything that exotic was available ready-to-wear in a suitable size for an eleven year old boy anywhere in America at that time.
 

navetsea

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East Java
sweet story, thanks for the pleasant little reading :)
and he must have a very good genes to live that long.

thinking about my own, I came to realize none left any impression in me, I don't really know their stories. spend my childhood with grandparent, both parent pursuing their second chances without looking back, the eighties, kinda fit with the song lyrics of the time.
 

LostInTyme

A-List Customer
That’s a beautiful remembrance of your father. It almost makes one feel that they’ve met him.

That said, in 1957 Cleveland was one of the great Men’s Wear manufacturing centers in the world. Two of the largest purveyors of popular priced ready-to-wear suits, Joseph and Feiss, and Richman Brothers, made their products in Cleveland. I know that Richman was selling off-white dinner jackets in 1958, for my father’s groomsmen bought their clothes there. That said, a shawl collar dinner jacket will hardly serve as a sport jacket. I doubt that anything that exotic was available ready-to-wear in a suitable size for an eleven year old boy anywhere in America at that time.
A very good (late) friend of mine showed up at our dance with what I supposed to be a White Sport Coat. Much later, when we were adults, he confessed that his coat was actually a lab coat his Mom procured from the Hospital where she worked.

Back in those days, Richman Brothers was out of our price range. We shopped the garment district down on West 6th street where everything was a negotiated price, but there was little that an eleven year old would want to wear.
 

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