They met on Stewart Air Force base. Mom and a friend went to
the NCO Club on base, I guess to meet soldiers. The story goes that Dad was
pretty crude, cocky, and drunk, and that Mom shot him down hard. She didn’t
like him, but he liked her. She claims she told him he as an “ass.” He got her
phone number from her friend and called the next day and apologized. He asked
my Mom out, and they were dating from them on.
I do remember meeting him. At first I called him “Mr.
Smith.” Then “Dale,” and of course eventually “Dad.” He was wearing this powder
blue suit he had till the day he died. I think he might have been buried in
that suit to tell the truth.
He was in Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD) in the Army,
and did a lot of side work with the Secret Service, protecting VIPS like
Presidents, Queens, and Popes. He was doing some Secret Service work in New
York City when I met him. He came down and took my Mom and me out to breakfast.
He was driving a big sedan, and I remember it had a red dome light on the dash,
that he could slam on the roof and turn on if needed, full on “Police Story”
70s style. I SO wanted him to have to go
into action when I was in the car, and have to speed through traffic with the
light stuck on the roof. He probably
told me he was going to be seeing a lot of my Mom.
Now, it was tough for my Mom after the divorce. She got me
and I don’t think she got a lot of child support. What she could get she
probably had to pry out of my father. Like I said, she worked at the bowling
alley, and I think she had three different jobs. I know she was a bartender and
the short order cook. I think she also worked the counter. That wasn’t the only
thing she worked at the bowling alley though. My Mom met a lot of guys.
I remember my Mom having a lot of boyfriends after the
divorce. To her credit, she always worked it as a package deal. Sure you get
some lovin’ but you also gotta put up with the hyper buck toothed little kid.
That was me.
There was one guy who I call the “CB guy.” This was during
my Mom’s CB phase. Total giant antenna, call signs and nicknames, and
codes. The internet of the 70s. This guy
was a cross between Jerry Reeves and Dale Earnhardt Sr. Look ‘em up, and then
imagine a combo. The main memory I have of him, besides the swanky look, was of
being “on the air” with him, and having him say he’d be there in a minute, and
then speeding up the driveway. Nothing gets the kids like CB humor.
Then there was the West Point cadet. I remember one night he
was coming by, and I was being a little hyper. I remember him telling me I was
a “pain in the ass.” I think he spent the night, but I don’t think he and Mom
“dated” after that.
Then there was Frank. He was pretty cool. He was a police
detective in New York City and worked on the Son of Sam case while he and my
Mom dated. I don’t remember how and when they met, but they’d known each other
for quite some time. They still keep in touch to this day. Well, Frank was
around for quite a bit. There was even a little overlap when she started seeing
my Dad. Frank asked Mom to marry him a couple times and then got cold feet. I
guess it eventually came down to “shit or get off the pot” as my Mom puts it.
Now, my biological father…My birth name was Douglas Turnbull
III. I was named after him and his father, and supposedly distant cousin
Douglas MacArthur. To this day my Mom
still freaks out like he’s going to sweep back into my life and kidnap me. The Lifetime
movie would be “I Know My Name is
Doug…and I am 41 Years Old.” Patty Duke and the parents from “Family Ties”
would be in it, and Nancy McKean as a social worker.
So, My Mom and Father got divorced because he was sleeping
with my Mom’s best friend, who was also his best friend’s wife. This
relationship continued after the divorce so I don’t know who knew what when,
just who did who. He was also sleeping with another girl around the corner, so
it got interesting on custody weekends when we’d go from house to house. I’d keep
busy downstairs while he was upstairs with Aunt whoever. I don’t know how he
kept track of it all. I watched a lot of TV.
Weekends when he would show up to get me, we’d go eat at the
local diner. I seem to remember us eating a lot of frozen glazed donuts, and
drinking milk and Pepsi mixed together. We also watched things like “The
Incredible Hulk” and other late 70s TV fare. He lived in his parent’s big old
run down creepy house. He took me to a
lot of movies in the 70s, including “Orca,” “The Spy Who Loved Me,” “Silent
Movie,” “Midway,” and “Star Wars.”
He does have the distinction of being there during my first
rock and roll moment. Kiss on the “Paul Lynde Halloween” special in 1976.
Doesn’t seem like much now, but when you’re 6 and you see this, it’s a game
changer. He also bought me my first Kiss album, a cassette of “Double
Platinum.” Also bought my Village People’s “Macho Man,” but let’s remember
Kiss.
He drove a pickup truck and then some sort of muscle car. We
drove around listening to a lot of music on his 8 track player. He was very
into Kiss, Billy Joel, Meat Loaf and
albums that were big at the time like the “Grease” and “Saturday Night Fever”
soundtracks. Also some Village People and Rod Stewart. I guess he was pretty
hip musically, or at least mainstream.
In retrospect I guess some Bowie, T Rex and Zep would have been nice. 8
track players were the CD players of the 70s. There’s nothing like rocking out
to something and having the track switch in the middle of the song.
I can’t really say how much of a Father he ever was,
especially in retrospect. I know there were some weekends he was supposed to
come get me and didn’t, or made some excuse. I don’t remember a lot of playing
catch. He did take me to the dog races though. I know what he put my dog to
sleep and told me it ran away. I know he said a lot of bad things about my Mom
and tried to play me against her.
Eventually my Dad would adopt me. My Father didn’t put up
any fight, just signed the papers. At the time it wasn’t like I wanted him to
fight, but a little effort might have been nice.
When I was in my early 30s out of the blue I got a letter
from my Father’s brother saying that my Dad wanted to get in touch with me.
There was a picture of him, and he looked like a very unhappy man. My reaction
was “why now,” and “why?” I had no interest. If he wanted to reach out to me,
why didn’t he write the letter? My Mom basically reacted like I might get
kidnapped and she’d never see me again. I never responded to the letter or
reached out to him.
Of course his ultimate revenge on both my Mom and I lies
within her wedding pictures with him, which she still has. I look just like he
did when he was younger. Creepily so, almost like we’re twins.
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