In Memoriam: Gary Hackman (July 16, 1941 – March 2, 2021)

When I was about 19 yrs old I had left a friend’s house late after an evening of table top gaming.  (Yes, I was a nerd long before it became trendy).  I only had got a short way home before my car died and I was unable to start it again.  I quickly hoofed it up to the corner gas station to find a pay phone (no cell phones back then) to call my dad.  Hearing his groggy voice answer I explained, “Hey dad, sorry but I need help” I truly felt bad as it was about 2:00 am and I was a good 45 minute’s drive away, but hearing the word “help” from one of his children stirred him from sleep to action.

“Stay where you are son, I’m coming to get you!”

That was my father. 

And my father died yesterday.  Another casualty to the COVID pandemic sweeping the world.  Until yesterday when the news anchors would update the nearly 500,000 American dead due to the virus it was, sadly, just a statistic to me to which I was largely disconnected.  Yesterday however, those statistics gained for me a name and a face.  One of those half million dead was the husband to Linda for 56 years and father to Stephen, Andrew, and Matthew for more than half a century.

Gary Hackman was perhaps the kindest man I know.  I honestly don’t think there was a mean bone in his body and he’d give you the shirt off his back if you needed it.  Really, if you didn’t like my father, the problem was with you.  Ok, sure, he could annoy me…but I was his son.  It was his job to annoy and embarrass his children occasionally just as I now do to my kids and they in time, will to theirs …and so on. 

But he taught all of us boys what it meant to be kind to others…and he taught us unconditional love. I never had to perform for my dad. My behaviour, good or bad, had no affect on his love for us. Yes, he had a temper at times (which cooled as he got older) and could fly off the handle on occasion but I can remember times when he’d come into my room after an outburst and say he was sorry or wrong, or had over-reacted. It wasn’t till I was older that I realised how many of my friends parents didn’t do this.

My dad owned Hackman Carpet Company and worked his butt off to provide for his family.  But woe to anyone who suggested the company would one day extend to future generations.  I can’t tell you the number of times as teen agers my brothers and I would be helping my dad install carpet in someone’s house when the owner would say, “So you boys going to take over the family business one day?”

Before we could begin to answer my dad would stand and interject “No, I do this job so my boys never have to.”  My father came from that generation that was willing to work a life time in a job he borderline hated in order to take care of his family and give greater opportunity to his kids. He spent decades doing hard manual labor so his boys wouldn’t…and we don’t!

The last 24 hours for me have been a flood of memories:

When I was 5 years old and had measles and dad brought me home cannolis just to make me happy

When I was 9 years old and we’d play ping pong or have a baseball catch

When I was 11 and we’d play racquetball every Sat evening before picking up Little Caesars pizzas for dinner

When I was 13 and we travelled across the U.S. and Canada in our Apache camper (actually we did that a lot which gave me the wanderlust I have today)

When I was 15 and we joined a Tae Kwon Do club together because at 40 he wanted to get in shape while I just wanted to be Bruce Lee

When I was 20 and broke up with my girlfriend when I realized I’d rather stay home on a Friday night and watch a movie with my dad & mom than go out with her

When I was 22 and took $20 from dad’s wallet to go golfing and left him an I.O.U that wished him a Happy Fathers Day

When I was 28 and dad spent 6 hours on a bus in India throwing up as we descended a winding road in the Himalayas

When I was 31 and called my dad & mom from the hospital to tell them they had just become grandparents

When I was 43 and we drove around Tuscany Italy together eating cheese and drinking wine

When I was 50 and we walked together across Spain on the Camino de Santiago

When I was 54 and the day I heard a nurse say that my father had passed away and the painful realisation there would be no more memories made.

But of course I believe there will be more memories made. Anyone who knew Gary Hackman knew that my dad loved Jesus…but even more importantly, Jesus loves my dad. And it is in that eternal love that Christ showed our family during so many years together that I have the hope of seeing my father again one day.

But until that day I miss my papa!