Happy Birthday, Father

This is a bring back blog for "Jerry Bring Back."

I have to tell the world about my amazing father on his 79th birthday and what better place to do it than here!

First of all, Gerald is a trivia buff. Who knows…maybe knowing the square mileage of Jacksonville, Florida will come in handy someday. He also knows everything about sports…even obscure and random facts about teams, players, and coaches. And not just with professional sports…even high school sports. Go ahead, quiz him…sports fans.

Gerald is a walking GPS who can give you directions to anywhere from nowhere and back. He even knows that everywhere intersects with somewhere in western no kidding.

He is the friendliest guy you ever want to meet and the most easy-going. That’s G.L. He should have run for office because he holds court wherever he goes. He can strike up a conversation with just anyone….and believe me he has.

Anywhoooooo……….


You should have seen Gerald back in the day when he wore his Air Force Blues. I thought he was the handsomest dad ever. And at age 79…definitely the cutest. The dog tags given to me when he was in the Air Force are my most prize possession. And every Veteran’s Day (like yesterday) I proudly wear them. I’m most proud that they say, “Kathy-Anne T.… Daughter of Gerald L. T…”

Over the years Gerald has earned the nickname “Jerry Bring Back.” When my mother buys something and later decides she doesn’t want it…she gives it to dad to return. Who would give a 79 year old man a hard time about bringing back a set of curtains? Remember, he has the cuteness factor going for him...and what would he want with swags and jabots, anyway?

My dad’s famous line growing up was, “Who loves Dad? Raise your hand.” We could be busy doing our homework, washing dishes, or watching television, but whenever he would say, “Who loves Dad? Raise your hand”…we would automatically each raise our hand and keep on doing what we were doing. Do you think we were going to deny my dad his fun?!

I loved it when my mom didn’t feel like cooking dinner and we were lucky to get McDonalds. My father and I had the special job of picking it up. I would get a pad of paper, write down everyone’s order, and then jump in the ole Tempest next to him. I can still hear that car today…sounds just like my washing machine. Off we’d go to Mickey D’s, my dad and I on a burger mission…swoosh, cchuck, swoosh, ccchuck. I remember hoping that mom didn’t feel like cooking the next week. Burgers and time with dad….it was the best.

Happy Birthday, Father. You are dearly loved by me and everyone who knows you. I could write more about how great you are, but I am having a hard time typing with just one hand. You see, my other hand is raised…high...into the air.