About Dad...

Dear Friends,

I hope all has been well for you guys these last two weeks.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my dad lately and some of the things he taught me. He left us too early (in 1971), but the memories and the lessons persist to this day — fifty-three years later.

For those of you who never met my dad, I'd like to paint a quick picture so you’ll understand who he was.

He was born Marcus Bernard Megahee on November 16th, 1923, in Coolidge, GA (population approximately 500 if you count rakes and tractors).

Dad and his eight brothers and sisters were orphaned in 1930, and He grew up in the Georgia Baptist Children’s Home, which was in Atlanta on the future site of the ATL Airport.

When he was old enough, he left the Children's Home and started college at Norman College in Norman Park, GA. To pay his way, he worked as a mechanic, a delivery man, and several other part-time jobs.

I’m a little fuzzy on the dates here, but I know he finished two years of school before enlisting in the Army and reached the Pacific Theater in 1944. If I remember correctly, he tried to enlist a few times after he turned 18 but was turned down because of his eyesight.

Apparently, the Army was less picky in 1943 and allowed him to serve. He served as a staff sergeant in the Supply Chain while stationed on the island of Saipan. He never saw combat.

After the war, he finished college and worked for Eastern Airlines in Atlanta.

While he was at Eastern Airlines, a distant cousin introduced him to an Emory nursing student (my mom, Hazel Ruth Davis). They married on October 17th, 1947 (See the picture below. Mom would want me to say that someone pulled her wedding dress train behind her by mistake).

After Mom got her nursing degree, she went to work, and Dad went to dental school at Emory on the GI Bill. He also worked odd jobs to make ends meet. They lived in a trailer on the Emory University campus and had two boys—me in 1951 and my brother Davis in 1952.

Dad finished dental school in 1953. He was proud of the work he did to be called “Doctor Megahee.” The family moved to Warner Robins, GA, to establish his dental practice.

In 1956, my sister Laura was born in Warner Robins.

Dad was well-respected in the community. Even today, more than fifty-five years later, my friends from Warner Robins still mention how much they loved to see him at his office. Now, how many people do you know who love to go see their dentist? Personally, I think it was the way he talked to them and asked about their lives. Most people are never asked about their lives except by their parents or their close family.

Maybe that’s where Dad learned how to talk to us.

There are more stories I could tell you, but Dad taught us to treat girls like we would want other boys to treat our sister. He taught us to be respectful. We got spanked when we misbehaved, but we always knew it was because of what we did, not who we were.

We got an allowance if we did our chores, and we knew if we wanted something, we had to earn it.

Mom and Dad seemed to know instinctively when to praise, when to constructively criticize, and when we just needed to be “loved on.”

One of the biggest lessons we learned was that you must have a sense of humor. Dad was always joking around with us. He taught me that, in life, you are the joker sometimes and the “jokee” other times.

This lesson was given to us one night when my brother and I (aged eight and nine, respectively) were camping out, and they played a practical joke on us.

The story of the practical joke is too long to share here, but it was the first thing I published, and if you'd like to read it, you can find it in the “Southern Reader” e-magazine here at SouthernReader.com.

Most importantly, I know my dad loved my mom, me, and my siblings with all his heart.

Now, at my age and with kids and grandkids, I know how hard that job was.

Have an outstanding day!

Cheers and Regards,

Kim

PS: I personally read and respond to all messages you send to me.