I had written a mini-bio about my Dad at the request of one of our sons and had not put it in my blog; however, I decided that I'd like to share a little bit about my Dad with you folks, too.  He was a special man--and I miss him already!

My Dad was laid to rest this morning with a Mass in the parish church of which he had been a member for many, many years.  I will write tomorrow about the service, but tonight I would like to write a little about Dad's life, his "history"--as requested by one of our sons.

Dad was born in Larose, LA on January 17, 1920, so he was just shy his 88th birthday.  His parents were Horace and Victoria Bourgeois Stevens; Dad was one of 11 children (or 12, depending on whose records you check--at least one son died before even being named, so we're not sure about that count).  Of those, only one remains--my Aunt Greta.

Most of Dad's early life was spent in the area between Larose and Lockport; he attended school in Lockport and graduated from what was then Lockport High School, at the time when there were only 11 grades.  When Dad completed high school, he took a correspondence course in Accounting, and that began his life-time career.

As a young man, he worked as a bookkeeper for a Mr. Toups for a few years, after which he began working in that same capacity for Pan-American Oil Company, located just a little below Valentine.  Dad worked there for many years, leaving there to begin what was to be his longest-running job--working at Bollinger's Shipyard in Lockport.  Dad worked his way up from being a bookkeeper to becoming the Secretary-Treasurer of the company, a position he held until he retired from there.  Of course, he couldn't stay retired for long and began working at other shipyards for a little while and then moving on to another--finally retiring for good.

Dad married Mom after a very brief courtship in 1939 (they were married 68 years on August 31 of this year), beginning their family with my birth in 1940 and followed about 18 months later by the birth of my first sister, Silvia (after 11 years or so, they began what we call their "second family" of two sons and two daughters--two of them preceded Dad in death).  As you can see from the dates, this was when our country was at war, and Dad began his service career with the Navy.  Unfortunately, Dad was hurt in a training accident which left him deaf in one ear; he was honorably discharged because of that, and this career was short-lived.

Politics and sports were two of Dad's biggest pleasures.  He was a town Alderman for many years and was proud of the fact that he designed the logo for the town's stationery.  He ran for mayor one year, but he was not elected; this disappointed him, I think, but it didn't dampen his interest in politics.  I remember going with Dad and Mom to the political headquarters for Robert Kennon, who became our state's governor.  We actually did "stuff envelopes" for the campaign, not something we enjoyed doing as young kids.  Dad remained interested in politics until right before his last trip to the hospital, reading the paper from front to back every day, a fact that the staff at the Manor used to their advantage--when Dad began to get a little "fussy" in the afternoons (or any time, for that matter), all they had to do was find a newspaper, hand it to him, and he was good to go!

Dad also enjoyed sports--watching and playing.  I can remember as a little girl when Dad would leave in the evenings to play baseball with the CYO teams and the American Legion teams.  He also played in some "benefit" games where "donkey basketball" and "donkey baseball" were played.  Somehow, Dad always managed to be given the tallest, roughest, and most stubborn of the donkeys!!

One of Dad's favorite things to do was EAT--and that was always our sign at the Manor that something was wrong with him.  When Dad didn't eat, he was sick--PERIOD!  He especially loved fried chicken--loved, loved, loved fried chicken.  One of the aides at the Manor even used to bring some extra pieces for her own lunch so she could share that with Dad--for which he was most grateful, of course.  Our kids knew, though, that could never leave food on their plates for too long if Grampa was around--he'd help himself to whatever food was there, so they learned how to protect their meals from him.  That was a habit he continued at the Manor, trying to eat food that other residents didn't want.  Of course, he would never have done that there had he not been ill with Alzheimer's--I think!

As you can see, Dad's life was full, was productive, was an example to us that we should use all of our talents to the best of our abilities--just as he did.  I know Dad was proud of all of his children--and grandchildren--and he always showed that to us and to them.  Without trying to turn him into a saint, I will say that my Dad was a good man, a man who was generous almost to a fault, a kind man, and a loving and giving man for his family.  We will miss him terribly, but we can rest easy in knowing that Dad is at peace and free from the pain of Alzheimer's--physical and mental.

Rest in peace, Dad!