Bill O’Boyle: Happy birthday to my dad

Nov. 19—Tomorrow — Tuesday, Nov. 21 — my dad would be 101 years old.

Sadly, he passed on Nov. 13, 1995 — 8 days before his 73rd birthday. He joined my mom in heaven. She had been waiting for for him since May 10, 1968. She was 42 years old.

It's a long time to be without parents. Especially when they were so good at being parents. They taught me everything I needed to travel through my life, and I am eternally grateful for being their son.

They taught me about love, compassion, community, family, friendship, acceptance, fairness, tolerance and faith.

But today, as I wish my dad a happy birthday, I recall so many moments that he and shared.

I remember like yesterday:

Playing a lot of catch in our side yard at 210 Reynolds St. in Plymouth.

Taking a lot of swings at a tennis ball that my dad hung from an old cherry tree in that yard.

Sitting on the couch next to my dad watching hundreds of sporting events — most notably Yankee doubleheaders sponsored by Ballentine Beer and hearing announcer Mel Allen say, "How about that!"

Riding shotgun when my dad drove me to baseball practice and basketball practice and home again. Of course, he sat and watched me the entire time I was practicing or playing — but never interfering.

Taking a very tentative bite out of his sardine sandwich, with raw onion, butter, salt and pepper and ketchup and remembering how good it wasn't.

Chomping on the pepperoni we would share — Dad would add Charles Chips and a beer. I washed it all down with a Glen Bottling Company lime soda.

Sitting across from him at Handley's Diner on South Main Street, Wilkes-Barre, or at Raub's Restaurant in Plymouth — enjoying ham, mashed potatoes, corn and coleslaw always — before we went to visit Mom in the Wyoming Valley Hospital on Dana Street.

Traveling to Philadelphia when Mom was at Hahnemann Hospital and eating at Horn & Hardart restaurant next door — again we had the ham dinner special.

Traveling to New York for many weekend series at Yankee Stadium — and watching Mickey Mantle chase baseballs around the monuments that were in centerfield.

And road trips to Philadelphia to watch the Phillies and seeing Willie Mays and Willie McCovey of the Giants, Hank Aaron, Warren Spahn and Eddie Matthews of the Braves and Johnny Callison, Don Demeter, Cookie Rojas, Poncho Herrera, Jim Bunning and many more Phillies.

Being at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh to watch the Pirates and the Giants and seeing Roberto Clemente chase down a ball in the rightfield corner and rifling a throw to third base to nail a runner.

Sitting in Yankee Stadium in October 1964, and watching Ken Boyer of the Cardinals hit a grand slam right past us into the leftfield bleachers.

Being in Yankee Stadium and seeing Y.A. Tittle and Frank Gifford play for the Giants.

Traveling to Pittsburgh in 1959 to watch the Plymouth Little League team lose a heartbreaker, missing out on a trip to Williamsport. Joey Pechulis and John Galazin were the pitchers, Diddy Adams was the catcher, Jesse Hobbs, Eddie and Frank Harry, Ronnie Dopko, Ed Stabulis, Fred and Dave Rowlands, Petey Savage, Ricky Williams, Tom Oldfield and Ron Heidel — great team.

Waiting almost every day to hear his Plymouth Valiant backing up Reynolds Street after work. Dad would usually wait in the car to take me somewhere.

Sitting at the kitchen table as Mom served us a home-cooked meal every night and my dad always thanking her for making such a delicious meal.

Watching TV westerns, his favorites, as Dad would duck punches thrown by the likes of Ben Cartwright, Marshal Matt Dillon and Audie Murphy.

Finding yet another Louis L'Amour western paperback for Dad to read — he loved them all.

Watching "Wheel of Fortune" and trying to guess the puzzles faster than Dad — he usually won.

Observing Dad at ceremonies honoring veterans — he never missed any. He knew what it meant to serve your country and he also new that those who gave their lives should never be forgotten.

Watching him play cards — he counted every suit in pinochle, not just the trump.

Being called down to Bobby Novak's Cafe for some homemade buttermilk and fried scrapple. Delicious!

Also being at Bob's when Johnny Mazur and Johnny Blanchard visited. Mazur was a Plymouth QB who starred at Notre Dame and coached in the NFL. Blanchard played for the Yankees — he served in the Army with Bobby Novak.

Being at Plymouth Little League — Dad was a co-founder — and observing how he loved baseball and how he loved to help kids.

I could go on and on and on. There are so many more stories and memories to tell.

One special time with Dad was when I had the opportunity to take him to Cooperstown, New York, to visit the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum.

It was special to see my dad's eyes widen when he saw a display of one of his favorite players or teams. Usually, they were Yankees.

But Dad appreciated all the greats, and he took time to pause and read many of the displays about players and events of many different teams.

It was special time spent with a special guy — my dad.

If I had a vote, my dad would be in the Baseball Hall of Fame. I've always said that those guys and gals who have volunteered over the decades to bring baseball to millions of kids in hundreds of thousands of communities should have a place in the Baseball Hall of Fame.

I have never had a day when I haven't talked about him, thought about him or tried to live my life like him.

Happy birthday, Dad!

Reach Bill O'Boyle at 570-991-6118 or on Twitter @TLBillOBoyle.