Where do I start with a column about a father who meant so much to me? The night of Oct. 30 was the toughest night of my life. It’s a pain I could not describe, saying goodbye to the greatest man I know. Our family not only lost a special man, but this community lost a man who put all his heart into it.
I recall moving to Fountain Hills in the summer of ‘79. I sat in the backseat and was looking at the desert with the mountain landscape surrounding it. I asked my dad where he was moving us to, and he drove to the Fountain and said, “look at the world’s tallest fountain,” with that smile on his face, adding, “this is our new home.” I still was not happy because I left my friends and my favorite Big Wheel bike path back in Paradise Valley. As we pulled up to our new home my dad said I could choose my room. He then said, “you can see the tip of the Fountain over Hotel Hill from this room,” and I took his advice.
My father had a job offer which paid well in California and my mom wanted him to take it. My mom and I saw a desert with a community just starting to build out of it, but my dad saw something we did not see, and so we made Fountain Hills our home.
I started grade school and started to make friends and I started to feel more at home as time went on. My dad was so committed to making The Fountain Hills Times thrive for this new community that he would work sunrise to sundown and on Saturdays and some Sunday mornings, but I recall he was always at the table for dinner and always spent time with the family on Sunday afternoons. He was a family man with a big heart not only for us, but for the community as well.
I recall he used to dress as Santa and fly down into the park in a helicopter. I didn’t know it was my dad until I sat on Santa’s lap and said, “Wow, my dad and you have the same watch,” and as soon as I made eye contact and he smiled I yelled out, “Dad, is that you?” Who knew that my dad was Santa Claus?
My dad had such a love for baseball, he got me into Little League. He loved watching me play, but I wasn’t all that good. I played outfield and I think my love of the game was catching moths with my glove as I waited for the ball. But it didn’t matter how bad I was, he still loved to take me to the game and get something to eat or get ice cream after.
When I graduated eighth grade, he noticed I was growing. And since I found a new love for the game of basketball, my dad said, “let’s get working on the court.” He and I would go to the basketball court at the old Club Mirage and start working on my game. It didn’t matter to him that I didn’t really have interest in baseball because he saw how I lit up when I watched Magic Johnson on the basketball court, and he was happy that I had a passion for something.
One day he came home and was so excited to tell me something. I asked what and he said, “You and I are flying to Los Angeles to see Magic Johnson.” Again, my father came through like he always did. When my uncle who lived in L.A. picked us up at the airport, he had some bad news. Magic Johnson was out with the flu. I was really bummed out but I still got to see a game at The Forum, which was a dream come true for me and it was time I got to spend with him.
I played basketball for my first two years at Coronado and you know what? I really was bad at it, but he was at every game and when I hit my first shot – which was a luck shot – my dad went crazy and he took me out and celebrated my two points. I stuck with it for the love of that game, and the cheerleaders, of course.
In ‘93 Fountain Hills opened its high school and he wanted me to transfer and be part of the first graduating class. I refused because I had new friends and found a home at Coronado, but I changed my mind for him. Again, he was thinking of this town, but he also wanted his son to be a part of something special, and I am happy I was.
He knew my love for New York City, so he and my mom offered to send me to school in New York City, where I moved in with my sister. He and I flew there and toured different schools, but I settled for the International School of Photography, and he was proud that I wanted to follow in his footsteps and work with a newspaper. I left New York after one year because of the cost of living and had every intention of going back, but chose to stay in Fountain Hills and start working full-time in ‘97 selling advertising for my dad’s paper.
Over the next 25 years I got to work with my dad and go to lunch with him, take him to the Diamondbacks games and talk to him every day; if not in person, then on the phone two to three times a day, which I will always treasure. I heard from so many business owners who told me that my dad was the biggest reason this town is what it is today because he gave the businesses a platform to advertise, which helped them stay in business, and he provided a paper that was a community bulletin board that kept the residents informed. I agree with that, because that was the man he was. He loved this town and always did what was best for it, and he was the best family man you could ask for.
On Oct. 30, I drove to Vegas, and it was the longest and toughest drive I have ever taken. I pulled over multiple times to just breathe, but I made it and as my sister and I stood there in the room and just watched him fighting for his life, we knew that it was not looking good. We both said our goodbyes and I grabbed his hand with tears in my eyes and a pain I can’t describe, and I told him that I loved him so much and that I am really going to miss him, and I said goodbye to my father. Two hours later he started to decline rapidly, and it brings comfort to me knowing he is resting and that he is not in pain, and I believe he heard Holly and I and that was enough for him to let go.
Thank you, Dad, for being there for myself and your family. I am so proud of all your accomplishments. Nobody can top what you have done for this community. I will miss you deeply everyday but, until we meet again, I say goodbye to my father, Mr. Fountain Hills.
