What follows is a piece I wrote a few years ago.  I share it for the first time.   I was reminded of it and inspired by a question I was posed today:

“How’s your Dad?”

It matters not what season.  It matters not what town.  Sooner or later, if I am recognized, chances are better than not I will be asked…”How’s your Dad doing?”

That is the legacy that my father, Larry Johnson, has passed down.  I am his personal press secretary.

Here’s the deal.  My  Dad is a retired educator.  He taught a few years in Mississippi, twelve more in Brownstown, and put in twenty years as a teacher at North Harrison High School.  Through it all, as much as he had a tendency to complain  as the end drew near, I believe he had a good time of it and, believe me… he was a positive influence on scores of folks over the years.  Had he not been exactly that, I would not be peppered so often with the same question…”How’s your Dad?”

In addition to being a school teacher, he was also a football coach.  He spent nine years as the head coach at Brownstown, 1970-1978,  and seven years as the head coach at North Harrison, 1979-1985.  To date he is the only man to head up football squads for two different Mid-Southern Conference Schools. (Edit…Jason Hawkins just took over Silver Creek coming from Charlestown…he is the second one to coach two conference schools.)  It is mostly this genre of extra-curricular activity that brings the constant re-visitation about the whereabouts and condition of my father.  It comes in the form of…”How’s your Dad?”

This is a good thing.  I’ll tell you why.

The constant inquiry I receive from those asking about my Dad is tangible proof that he is appreciated, well-thought of, and I suppose most importantly…he is remembered.

After all, if the folks asking about him did not care about him, they’d never bring his existence up to me.  Truly, I never get tired of hearing that question.

Most of the inquiry I get comes from Jackson County.  I spend about two hundred days a year working in Jackson County.  My workplace is less than ten miles from the street I grew up on as a child.  I can’t spend fifteen minutes in Brownstown before someone is asking me how my Dad is.

Many years ago I stopped being astounded by the stories and “legends” that surround my Dad when it came to football coaching and the remarkable and sometimes not so remarkable relationships he had with his players.

One year he was so mad at his players because many of them stayed out late at the Jackson County Fair.  Those guilty were quite sluggish in practice that morning.  He told them that if they liked the county fair so much, he give them their own county fair and proceeded to make five different conditioning stations on the field.  One in each corner and the fifth at mid-field.  To this day many coaches have a drill they call “County Fair” and they don’t have a clue where it came from.

I also hear stories about how my Dad drove kids home after practice and made sure they were safe before he took care of his own needs.  How he was a good example and a father figure to many of the players who could not depend upon their own fathers.

Now that football season is upon us,  I know that I will run into so many different folks that will inquire about how my Dad is.

He is doing fine.  I played golf with him a few days ago.  He still reads his Bible in the morning and drinks too much coffee.  He plays golf regularly.  He works out at the local YMCA.  He sings in the choir at church.  He still watches football and as he watches, he still “gets into it a little bit.”

With that said, know that I too appreciate the man.  He took me to more ball games than I can count.  We used to pitch the baseball until the sun gave out on the day.  He still beats me at H-O-R-S-E.  And I am truly blessed.

In earnest  I can tell you I was actually saving words like these for another day.  Then I called an audible.  Why wait?

I ask you the same thing.  Why wait?

Your homework is to find a someone that is close to you and let them know you care.  Let them know that you know they have made a difference.

This past Spring I called a North Harrison baseball game against Brownstown Central on the radio..  John Lawson, Brownstown Central’s  coach, and a few years my senior, and I exchanged emails before the game.  I was looking for information on his team.  His last words via email were…”Tell your Dad I said hello.”

And so it goes.

At a Football Reunion in Brownstown a few years ago, the coach that hated to talk to the media was giving a reporter a full report.