Send Dad a Shout-Out for Father's Day

My Dad read to me and my brother constantly, and made sure there were books in every room of the house.

He was particularly fond of Mark Twain, and loved to do the dialogue in authentic dialect (which he could, being a Missouri country boy himself).

He could recite Kipling and Tennyson and Shakespeare, and would compose notes to my teachers in Latin or Spanish or mirror-writing – which, fortunately, they found amusing.

Hence, I became a writer. Thanks, Dad.

He also taught me to swim, in a farm pond, and to fish, to ride a bike, to shoot a rifle. He took us on wild rambles through the hills and hollows, just to see what we might see. He took us to exotic places, historic places, even dangerous places – like sandbagging the Cedar River against a flood when I was only 10.

He also taught me, under orders, to dig a 4-foot-deep, frost-free foundation trench in solid clay and to mix and pour the concrete for it. He had me up on a 16-foot ladder with a blowtorch in one hand and a paint scraper in the other at 12 years old.

Hence, I became handy around the house. It wasn't always fun, but it was enlightening. Thanks, Dad.

When he retired from teaching, my dad turned his life over to social justice. He volunteered for the Red Cross, spending weeks in diaster zones as a Spanish interpreter.

He went to Nicaragua and Guatemala as an American "human shield" to protect villagers from death squads.

We gave him up for dead when he had a stroke at 85 – but he survived, and with four other senior citizens went on to found a church, and kept driving blood for the Red Cross until we finally had to take away his license.

Dad passed away last year, just shy of 92 and a week after we told him he would be a great-grandfather.

From first to last, he never stopped teaching me how live well and keep learning. Thanks, Dad.

When I met Lily, Nadia and Emilia Ruggini in the Village and they told me their Daddy, City Finance Director John Ruggini, reads them a story every night, I thought, "What lucky girls – you'll never stop learning" – and Dad probably won't make you dig any ditches.

Optometrist Mark Veth runs his own business, Be Spectacled, in the Village. A lot of people have businesses. Mark has one with real flair. He thanks his father every day for all he's become.

Megan, Olivia, Morgan and Emily, stopping for a Starbuck's, gave their dads shouts and props – they looked like they felt pretty fortunate, getting to grow up in Wauwatosa and go to West High. Thanks, Dads.

Sometimes, it's as simple as a treat. Ricky Johnson picked up his daughters, Amareya and Anaya Johnson, 9 and 10, after school in his classic Catalina and took them for a frozen yogurt at Yo Mama. Thanks, Dad!

Not everyone is so lucky, I know. For some, he isn't part of life, maybe never was. One girl, about 12, simply whispered "No" when asked if she'd care to wish her dad a happy Father's Day. Her grandmother said, "It wouldn't be appropriate right now."

To those for whom it stings, I can only say, "At least he gave you life" – and maybe you can say, "Thanks, Dad," for that.

To those who revel and glow in their father's presence or, like me, with his memory, Patch wishes all a happy Father's Day come Sunday. If you'd like to say thanks to your "old man," please send him your best in the comments.