Tribute to Mark

A Father’s Tribute to His Son and Best Friend: Remembering Mark’s Life, Love, and Legacy

On April 19, 2022, my son Mark succumbed to his nearly two-year battle with cancer.   This is from a father to his best friend who also happens to be his son.   

“A man should never have to bury his son.” My dad said that to me after burying my younger brother. One year later, I’d be burying my Dad. Truer words have never been spoken.

“Mark, you’ve got the softest hands I’ve ever seen for a baseball player.” I’d always hoped I could fulfill my dreams of being a pro-baseball player through Mark. Shortly thereafter, “Dad. I want to quit baseball. You’ve become just like the other coaches, always hollering at everyone.” It was my dream, not his. He did teach me a lesson though, just like he did throughout his life. He was so very special.

He played Pee Wee football. Because of his size, he had to play on the line. I videoed the games. I saw several kids punching him, while he was in the pile. I had a “conversation” with the Refs. They threw me out of the complex, and couldn’t come back. I always wondered where Mark got his temper?

He loved basketball. He broke his leg practicing in our driveway. I put him in the car to take him to the hospital; shut the car’s back door, didn’t have his leg all the way in. Typical… Came back playing JV against Rockhurst; fouled out in less than five minutes on the court. Just like his Dad.

He was fifteen when I sat in a lawn chair, serving as a front seat, to drive a ’72 Cutlass convertible home with most of its parts in buckets in the backseat floorboard. Day and night, he’d work on that car putting it back together in our carport; by himself most of the time. I was busy making a living. Something I’d regret for many years to come. Cats in the Cradle by Harry Chapin is my song, only in reverse.

We were fortunate. Marion Labs, Mr. K, afforded us the opportunity to give each child a college fund. Shortly after his eighteenth birthday, he came to me with a proposal. “I want to take part of my college fund to buy and fix up a house near UMKC. I’ll rent it out to friends while I go to college.” I had to write a letter to the bank explaining it was his money. What kind of kid does that at eighteen? I guess the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.

Together, just he and I worked on that house for months. Fearlessly, gutting it and putting it back together again. We didn’t know what we were doing. His grandfather frequently used to say while working with me, “two heads are better than one, even if one is a sheep’s head.” Working on his first house, we were two sheep. At 18, it provided Mark with a foundation for the rest of his life. God, I loved working with him on that house, even if I did cold-cock myself a dozen times on the low steel beams in his basement.

His mother and I started our love affair while we were sophomores in high school. Another acorn; Mark and Brandi began dating as sophomores in high school as well. Four or five years later, the four of us were eating lunch. “We’re going to elope to Vegas. We’re going to get married.” His mother and I were thrilled, but eloping was just not going to work! One of the most magical days of my life happened in 110-degree heat on Paradise Island in the Bahamas. I can still see her; beautiful, dress blowing in the wind while being escorted down the long stairs of the Cloisters by her dad, Ronny. Mark was so proud, with such a loving smile on his face for Bran. You could still see their love, over 30 years later. And I thought I had it bad for his mother. Brandi, Taylor, Emily, and Carson are all incredible! All beside him on that Tuesday.

I’d always hoped we could carry the family name in a business together. It’s a dream most fathers have. We’d be in and out of that happening for thirty years. I thought I was something special; until he passed me on so many levels. I couldn’t carry his jock-strap! Self-taught no less. When it came to being an entrepreneur; I was a kid, he was a man! What a mind; always thinking, probing, discovering, inventing: fearless…

“Can we afford this Dad?” I responded. “I’ll make it happen as part of the business.” For the next twenty years, the entire family enjoyed Disney World. So many fond memories! “Ring the bell Will!” Family joke. Yeah, he could be loud and somewhat outrageous; got that from Linda, his mother.

It took a couple of years to get me hooked on deer hunting after he and Shawn started. In my second season, using a rifle with a scope (I always considered that cheating), he and I were walking back to Mike’s brother’s house for lunch. “Dad, over there. It’s a small buck.” About 150 yards away. “You saw it. You take it. Get in the prone position, relax and take him.” He couldn’t get comfortable with the shot. “Take him, Dad.” He was more excited than me. Shawn had to field-dress it and take his antlers. Those small antlers still stand over the steps he fell on; breaking his cancer-filled leg…

I love Disney and Mark loved Cabo. After Will lost a marlin when he pulled too strong on the line reeling his in, go figure. I talked to the first mate when Mark had a second one hooked. “If you’re expecting a nice tip, he needs to land this fish. If I were you, I’d help him get it in.” Standing next to Mark, with instructions at critical points, Mark landed his marlin, thirty minutes after our talk. Wish I had thought about it for Will. If Mark could have lived anywhere, Cabo would be at the top of his list.

“Don’t stand up on the floorboard Dad. I don’t think it will hold you, too much rust.” For the next year, every weekend would find Mark and me working on his ’66 Mustang. Grinding junk from every inch of the underneath, watching him learn to weld (thank you Duane), rebuilding the original transmission with literally over a hundred parts laid out on a table, wondering if we’d ever get it put back together. We needed a tool to test the suction or something; didn’t have it; we built a tool ourselves. Fearless described my son on so many levels. Where he got it, is beyond me. I’ve always been in awe of Mark! Our first trip was around the block, so we could push it back if we needed to. Man, that car is beautiful! And the time spent together; the absolute best… I think they call it priceless.

“Look out for that nail Dad.” Too little, too late as the nail punctured my foot from the debris of the wall being taken down. It was during the renovation of Taylor’s house when we found out about his cancer. One last project we’d work on together. I still can’t believe the plumbing actually worked!

I had to pull over on my way to his house, didn’t know how I got to where I was. Everything was a blur. Later working together alone in his office, “Mark, I’m not sure I can do this. I don’t want to live without you here, I can’t.” Mark: “I don’t want to hear that from you Dad. You’ve got to be here for Brandi and the girls. You’ve got to be strong for Mom.” Always anticipate the worst, the acorn? I just wish I had words to lessen the pain for Brandi and the girls. They adored him. How could they not?

Unlike how I grew up, my wife, children, and grandchildren have never had an occasion to doubt my feelings toward them. But, I’ve said “I love you” more in the last two years than in the previous 72 years combined. The words just flow off my tongue now. But they’re so inadequate to express my real feelings. I know he knew, but I wish there was something else I could have said…

It’s funny, it’s come full circle. I was under a bridge he was fishing off of at some woodsy camp we both hated. He was maybe 6 or 7. I actually put a perch on his hook and tugged on his line. His first fish. Forty-some years later he’d land a marlin; hundreds of times larger and more beautiful. A perfect metaphor for how our love grew. It took 4 guys to hold that fish up. God, I miss him so much.

You gave so much, to so many, in such a short period of time. RIP my best friend, my son.