All of this reminded me of boyhood Saturdays, when my Dad would corral me and my two younger brothers or some work, followed by college football.
It is frequently said that we don't always recognize memorable moments when they occur, and that's true. I've been blessed with a keen sense of awareness and have long practiced the habit of striving to live in the moment. I still miss a lot of stuff, but I'm as good as most at noticing things and better than others at making mental records of them.
My parents resided in a Chicago suburb for decades and raised their eight children there. TV broadcasts in the 1970s featured local and regional teams and whoever they were playing.
Consequently, I was raised a fan of the Cubs, the Blackhawks, the Bears, and Big Ten college football. We also had to watch another team, Notre Dame.
The Big Ten Conference then (and today) was dominated by the Michigan Wolverines and the Ohio State Buckeyes, with occasional solid seasons from Purdue, Minnesota, and Northwestern (rarely). We often cheered for Northwestern, but we had other favorites, too. Our favorite teams didn't always win, but we did view some good games.
Dad rose early six days a week, sleeping in only on Sundays, but still getting up early enough to attend 10 a.m. Mass.
His Saturday morning routine included morning visits to a local bakery and a grocery story. He always purchased a variety of deli meats (called cold cuts back then), cheese, and fresh-baked sandwich rolls.
He then returned home and put me and brothers, Patrick and Mike, to work, usually doing yard work.
In addition to our regular indoor chores (running a vacuum cleaner, putting away toys, and helping wash dishes), we had weekly and seasonal tasks to complete outdoors. I was responsible for mowing the lawn, beginning in the 3rd grade and continuing through college.
All three of us assisted with special tasks, such as painting the garage, trimming trees, raking leaves and shoveling snow.
Dad always had special projects or maintenance tasks for us. One repair project stands out in memory, because it was part of a near-perfect Saturday in many respects.
Saturday, Oct 22, 1977 was a sunny, dry day, with seasonal temperatures in the upper 40s. Dad determined we would perform some routine but necessary work to the rooftop chimney.
Under Dad's supervision, we pulled the wood extension ladder from the garage, and the four-man (well, one man and three boys) working party climbed up to the roof, a steeply slanted number with one bedroom dormer located at the rear side.
The project involved cleaning the area around the chimney base, applying some sealant to the chimney stack and the roofing shingles at its base. Dad explained why the work was necessary, told us about the materials we were using, and gave each of us a specific task to complete.
The work wasn't complicated and was completed in a short time. We sat on the rooftop for a while, just talking, enjoying the view and waving to neighbors as they went about their Saturday projects.
I remember Dad telling us about a few of the other seasonal tasks we needed to complete in the coming weeks, including replacing the window screens with the heavy storm windows.
By the time we climbed down from the roof, we were ready for lunch. Dad set out all the fixings and we'd assemble our sandwiches. My favorite was a roast beef with cheddar cheese, topped with a tomato slice, lettuce and mayo - all stacked high on a fresh onion roll. I'd add a side of potato chips and a glass of cold root beer.
We didn't always have soft drinks in the house, but root beer was Dad's favorite soft drink and he'd enjoy a glass with his Saturday lunch.
We'd gather around the family TV (we had only one in the house for many years) and watch the Big Ten game that was featured for the day.
Northwestern hosted Ohio State that Saturday and lost, 35-15, but we also heard how unranked Minnesota upset No. 1 Michigan 16-0 at Memorial Stadium in Minneapolis. We hated to see Northwestern lose, but I was a Minnesota fan then (and now) and found some comfort in learning of the Gophers' big win.
There are, of course, special occasions that instantly become lifelong memories - a wedding, the birth of a child, a college graduation. But the routine or the ordinary rarely signals it has the potential for lasting significance. Somewhere along the journey it becomes memorable and important.
That rooftop project and that day in October became memorable for me, and it comes back to me in vivid detail whenever I think about the Big Ten football conference.
Dad passed away after a long illness in 1995, Patrick died suddenly in 2008, and Mike is retired now. But each is young and full of energy, laughing and enjoying a meal of fresh bread, meats and cold root beer, whenenever I think back to that brisk autumn day in October 1977.
-- Thank you for reading. Please feel free to comment. Feedback is always welcome.
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