A Father's Day Reflection

Every father leaves an imprint on their child's life, but some teach us lessons we carry for decades without even realizing it. This Father's Day, I'm sharing a deeply personal story from my StoryWorth collection about the man who shaped not only my love for the open road but my approach to life itself.

My dad wasn't just any trucker—he was a mechanical wizard who could fix anything with his hands and preferred the quiet charm of America's back roads to the efficient monotony of interstates. Though his big rig kept him away for days at a time, the moments we shared became the foundation of who I am today. From teaching me to ride my first Rupp minibike in our backyard to meticulously building a regulation basketball hoop on our roof, he showed me that love often looks like time and attention rather than words.

The summer of 1970 stands frozen in my memory—riding alongside him in a 1967 Kenworth, delivering produce across the Eastern United States. Those highways and byways became classrooms where I learned about this country's breathtaking landscapes and the value of seeing what others miss when they rush from point A to point B. Now, whenever I descend into Cincinnati or drive the Florida Turnpike at dawn, I'm transported back to those precious months when my father's world became mine. His preference for American-made vehicles, his quiet dignity, and his problem-solving mindset continue to influence my choices even now.

If your father is still with you, I encourage you to reach out today. Record his stories, ask the questions you've been meaning to ask, and treasure the time you have. Because someday, like me, you'll find yourself trying to piece together the full picture of the man who helped make you who you are. Join me for this special episode that reminds us all that sometimes the most meaningful journeys aren't about destinations at all.

Chapters

• 0:00 Welcome to Dan the Road Trip Guy

Transcript

Speaker 1: 0:03

Welcome to Dan the Road Trip Guy. I'm your host, dan, and each week we'll embark on a new adventure, discovering memories and life lessons of our incredible guests, from everyday travelers to thrill seekers and everyone in between. This podcast is your front row seat to inspiring stories of passion, resilience and the pursuit of happiness, so buckle up and enjoy the ride. Well, it's Father's Day 2025, and happy Father's Day to all you fathers out there. If you've listened to my personal episodes, you know that in December of 2023, my daughter gave me a service called StoryWorthcom. The idea was I would get a question each week 53 of them over the course of the year and I would answer a question that she had selected. Since it's Father's Day, I thought I would go pull out one that related to fathers, and the question was what was your dad like when you were a child?

Speaker 1: 1:05

My dad was the owner-operator of a big rig, which meant he was on the road most weeks. He was also incredibly mechanically minded, handling all of his own truck maintenance. Saturdays often revolved around oil changes, general repairs, tire replacements. Despite his demanding schedule, my dad was my hero, so much that he was my best man at my wedding. My brother, my only sibling is nine years older than me. I've heard though I can't say this is for sure true that my dad once told my mom you raised the first one. This one is mine. Now. My brother is incredibly smart again one of my heroes super encouraging and always there for me.

Speaker 1: 1:52

Before I was born, my dad owned a big Harley Davidson. I need to ask my brother about it, since he actually sat on it and rumor has it he was told to get rid of it before I came along. When I was nine, my dad brought home a Rupp minibike. Rupp was an American brand which suited his preference for domestically made products. I don't even remember asking for a bike. I think it was his idea. My mom, however, didn't seem thrilled, but my dad took me to the backyard and taught me how to ride. In later years I owned two bikes and occasionally he'd ride with me. That was a lot of fun. He also taught me basic car maintenance how to change the oil, rotate tires and just handle general, regular upkeep.

Speaker 1: 2:40

Even though he was gone often, my dad made time for us. I played basketball and he mounted a hoop on the roof of our house, designing the bracket himself to match the roof line and ensuring it sat exactly 10 feet from the ground. That hoop lasted for years, even after I moved out, until the roof was replaced. It was taken down. Dad was a natural fixer. I remember one winter the furnace broke down while he was on the road. He told my mom he'd fix it when he got home, and sure enough he did.

Speaker 1: 3:13

He wasn't much of a carpenter, he was more of that mechanically-minded guy, but that didn't stop him from building things For Linda and I. He built this massive doghouse when we got our first dog. For Linda and I he built this massive dog house when we got our first dog. Now, this wasn't just a small shelter, it was huge. And speaking of dogs, we had one growing up.

Speaker 1: 3:30

Dad brought him home from one of his trips. He called him a sidewalk setter Breed, since he was a stray. When he found him no-transcript, and with most people he did have a tendency to put you in your place. He had a dry sense of humor, he was quick to lend a hand to anyone and he adored his own mother. She was widowed when he was just six months old. As he got older I saw his love for her only deepen. I never heard my parents argue or fight. I'm sure they had their disagreements but they just kept them private. I remember when Dad would return home, sometimes early in the mornings, late night I could hear him and Mom talking in their bedroom.

Speaker 1: 4:15

Dad was a car guy through and through. He loved Plymouths and Chryslers. He left us with this long list of cars he had owned. I regret never asking him which was his favorite of cars he had owned. I regret never asking him which was his favorite. He did restore a 1946 Chevrolet pickup truck right on our carport Not a garage, a carport. Looking back, I still wonder how he managed to do that in such a small space. He had a 59 Chevy El Camino which I wish we still owned. He swapped the engine and the column shifter for a four on the floor and that car would fly.

Speaker 1: 4:47

Every time I descend the hill into Cincinnati or cruise along the Florida Turnpike in the early morning, I'm transported back to the summer of 1970, a summer etched into my memory. It was the season I spent in the cab of a 1967 Kenworth, riding alongside my dad and Willie Babb as they delivered produce and frozen fish across the eastern US. That summer was unforgettable, the time when I first discovered my love for the open road and the breathtaking beauty of this country. If only we take the time to truly see it. Dad had a habit of taking the back roads. Maybe it was to avoid the scales in the truck, but I always believed he appreciated the quiet charm of those older highways. I'm guessing if he were making a run to Atlanta today he would try to find a back road. You know he might choose Highway 27, which was right in front of our house, over the busy lanes of I-75.

Speaker 1: 5:45

I was blessed with an incredible father and I hope my own children will be able to say that in 30 years. So if your father's still living, I encourage you to reach out to him. Record some stories, enjoy time with him, because eventually they leave us. Happy Father's Day. Thank you for tuning in to Dan the Road Trip Guy. I hope you enjoyed our journey today and the stories that were shared. If you have any thoughts or questions or stories of your own, I'd love to hear from you. Feel free to reach out to me anytime. Don't forget to share this podcast with your friends and family and help us to spread the joy of road trips and great conversations. Until next time, keep driving, keep exploring and keep having those amazing conversations. Safe travels and remember you can find me on the internet at dantheroadtripguycom.