TUPATALK: Remembering strong male role models as Father's Day nears

I believe all adults, regardless of their flaws, should try to be constructive role models for youth.

Among the sports greats that I believe took this seriously include Roberto Clemente, Willie Mays,

Dale Murphy, Michael Jordan, Lou Gehrig, Babe Ruth, Harmon Killebrew, Roy Campanella, Barry Sanders and others.

With Father’s Day just a week away, I want to recognize some men that made such a seismic impact on my life while I grew up as basically a fatherless teenager.

I did have a dad — and I loved him. But, he had decided to leave us when I was 10-years-old. I remember as a 12-year-old standing shirtless on our front lawn and staring down the street, while the sun went down, hoping to see his semi truck drive up.

My mom did an incredible job with my sister — and helped me to be a better person than I would have been if not for her love and guidance.

But, strong male mentors also played a vital part.

My sixth-grade teacher Mr. Cottle injected himself into my life at a vital time.

I dealt with the stigma of being from a rare single-parent home in the late 1960s, as well as our really tight finances.

The shabby clothes and shy manner I brought to school earned me attention — not the good kind.

Fortunately, I was oblivious to a lot of the undercurrent,. Mr. Cottle made me feel like I was more than just a name in a rollbook.

During a recess discussion one day, someone made a negative comment about me, while Mr. Cottle listened.

He immediately told my classmates that often those who came up in tough circumstances, such as mine, turn out to do special things in life. I don’t know I’ve done anything incredibly special in life, but I have lived my greatest dream and had the opportunity to impact others for good.

A year later, Mr. Cottle displayed that same kindness to my sister.

While in seventh or eighth grade, I enrolled in Mr. Crawford’s typing class.

I wasn’t exactly the best-dressed kid in junior high. With only popcorn to eat sometimes, new clothes proved an unaffordable luxury. I wore the cheap tennis shoes they sold in supermarkets back then — and wore them until after the ribbing had torn into big gashes.

One day, while I’m in typing class, I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. It was Mr. Crawford. He motioned to me to walk with him to the back of the classroom. In a very nice way, he asked about my home life, how I was treated.

With a tight throat, I told him everything was fine, that we were just going through some tough times.

I cried — not because of our circumstances — but because an adult human being showed enough caring and compassion about me to ask.

A few years later, when I was 21, Mr. Crawford stopped by the gas station where I worked part-time, while going to college. I felt proud to show him I had turned out strong and healthy and all right.

When I was 13 or 14, a friend in my church encouraged me to become active in Boy Scouts because of a new Scoutmaster.

That opened the door for Gary to make a lift-changing impact.

I already knew Gary and his wife and children as their paperboy. In fact, he once paid me to feed his two horses while he was on vacation.

As a Scoutmaster, Gary possessed that unique ability to make each boy feel wanted and respected.

When it came time to pay for summer Scout camp, something that in no way my mom could afford, he rented a snow-cone making machine. On a Saturday, the five of us in the troop and Gary spent the day soelling snow-cones outside the neighborhood supermarket.

When we returned from a pretty successful camp — we were the only troop, by far, to win the two feathers every day for the neatness of our camp and some other daily inspection I don’t recall — he asked me to deliver the camp report during the parents’ meeting.

His caring and attention boosted my confidence during that crucial period of my life, as his fostering a troop unit of such diverse personalities that possessed a really great spirit of friendship and acceptance.

My Uncle Larry also played a pivotal role. He got me going back to church regularly, which gave me a whole new set of friends. When a new bout of economic woes hit our family, mom and sis away 50 miles to try to scratch by with a minimum-wage job while Larry let me live with he and Aunt Sandy and their five children, the oldest of which I believe was nine or 10.

Larry wasn’t a wealthy man, but he allowed me to be a part of their family throughout my final two years of high school and for a year after that.

He taught me many skills, but the biggest lesson he imparted was his example of sacrificial generosity and love.

As far as my own dad, I always loved and respected him — thanks to mom. She told us to forgive him and to realize he was a good man who made some poor decisions.

He and I later connected several times. Twice, while on leave with the Marine Corps, I made a detour to Texas to spend a day or two with him and his family. In 1997 or 1998, I flew to attend the Cotton Bowl with him — the only game I ever saw with my father.

He passed away a few years later. I jetted to San Antonio, rented a car, drove to his memorial service and read a poem.

Uncles and great-uncles, my great-grandpa, my grandfathers and others also offered fatherly compassion and strength as I grew up and throughout my life.

I am profoundly grateful for all those adults throughout the years that helped push me along and boost me to try to be the best version of me.

I hope that next week, that each of you will honor your dads, your granddads and the other men along your path who made some significant difference for the better in your lives.

This article originally appeared on Bartlesville Examiner-Enterprise: Reflection on strong male role models important this Father's Day