CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

I’ve been thinking a lot about my childhood lately. I guess that’s what happens when you open Pandora's Box. With Father’s Day approaching, those thoughts have turned to the Father figures I had in my life as a child.

THE SEARCH FOR DAD

Writer’s note: On May 13,2011 I decided to search for my Dad. Below is the series of blog posts as the search carried on. I am nowhere near done -- and I hope to provide new updates as new information comes it. Thank-you to Stephen Rodrick, Contributing Writer for New Times Magazine & Contributing Editor for Mens Journal, for the suggestion to blend these posts together.

Family photo - taken in 1977

I was five years old the last time I saw my Dad. That's an amazing sentence to write. The reality is that I haven't seen or heard from my Dad in 31 years. I don't have many clear memories of him but I do remember the last time I saw him. He picked me up to go to a theme park for my birthday. We were late and the theme park was closed so we went to McDonald's. All I have left now is speculation. I'm told I look like him and that I have a few similar traits. I guess I can't argue, having no frame of reference.

The Search for Dad: What's next?

I had to take a breather. So, for the last few days, I have tried to not think about my Dad and my search for answers. I have immersed myself in my family and have kept myself as busy as possible. 

However, dreams of my search and possible outcomes have kept me from having a restful sleep.

I have hit the wall in terms of information on what happened to my Dad. To recap, I traced him to Regina. In the late 1970's through to the mid 1980's, my Dad worked for CFMQ-FM (Q92) as the morning man and later, the mid-day host. In the late 80's, he left CFMQ-FM and radio in general. That's where the trail goes cold. In March of 2005, My Dad passed away at Regina General Hospital. At the time of his death, he was married to Linda North and living in a townhouse complex on Cameron Street in Regina. I have had many meaningful messages from his co-workers and colleagues in Regina radio and their memories have sustained me to this point. The last known date that one of them saw my Dad was 1989.

The search for Dad: The Man

When I began this quest to reconnect with my Dad, one of my goals was to learn as much as I could about him. What kind of man was he? Am I like him? Do we share traits?

It's still early in the game but I think I can safely say that he was well liked and respected by the people he worked with. I have had several meaningful exchanges with colleagues in Regina and Whitehorse. They have been generous with their time and for that, I am grateful. I want to share a couple of comments. I have left the names off because I didn't have their permission to include them.

The search for Dad: An update

My search for my Dad, Michael Peter Murphy started last week . The decision to look for my Dad was an emotional one for me. As soon as I decided to formally post that decision here, I knew that I wouldn't be able to take it back. There was risk -- risk that I will not get the outcome that I set out for. I thought I understood that risk. I did not.

Today, a friend sent me a link to an announcement that said the following:

       Michael Peter Murphy 

Date of Birth: Monday May 28th 1945

Date of Death: Thursday March 31st 2005

Place of Death: Regina General Hospital

  

I have been unable to properly confirm whether this is my Dad however birth date matches his, Peter was his middle name and the painful pit in my stomach tells me that this is my Dad.

I wasn't prepared for this news even though the logical part of my brain knew it was a possibility and it has knocked me down.

The search for Dad

Taken prior to a Kelowna Regatta -- not sure on the year. Dad is the one in the apron.

I was five years old the last time I saw my Dad. That's an amazing sentence to write. The reality is that I haven't seen or heard from my Dad in 31 years. I don't have many clear memories of him but I do remember the last time I saw him. He picked me up to go to a theme park for my birthday. We were late and the theme park was closed so we went to McDonald's.

Try saying that with a fat lip

Yesterday I observed, from the safety of my Twitter profile, the continuation of a schoolyard fight between Tom Scocca, who blogs on Slate and Chris Jones, who writes for Esquire and has his own blog called Son of a Bold Venture. A couple of months ago, Chris Jones wrote a post outlining the basics of profile writing. This post was intended to help young writers (like me).

In the post Chris Jones gives some advice on how to pick the proper subject for a profile:

Not everybody is interesting: In the way that a bad idea will doom a feature from the start, choosing the wrong subject will doom a profile..........For instance, someone like Albert Pujols is obviously an outstanding baseball player, but I think it would be very hard to write a good profile about him. I’d be willing to bet that the bullpen catcher for the Milwaukee Brewers would make for a more interesting story. That dude—and I just looked him up: Marcus Hanel, who apparently has enormous hands—would be my pick every time.

Tom Scocca took issue with the post:

It is, in fact, great advice for any writer who wishes never, ever to compete with Chris Jones for the finite amount of space and money available for feature writing in major American magazines.

And he continues

No one will be more thrilled than I will if Chris Jones goes off the reservation and interviews Marcus Hanel, bullpen catcher of the Milwaukee Brewers, and somehow forces his bosses at Esquire to put it on the cover of the May issue. If Marcus Hanel is on the cover, I will find Chris Jones and pour him a manly drink of congratulations, writer to writer, from my own personal bottle of Pikesville Rye. I might even buy a copy of Esquire.

Otherwise? Tell it to your priest, pal. You're in the Albert Pujols business.

Somewhere in that argument, Tom Scocca may have had a point. The point however, was lost in his delivery. Snark seems to be his writing style of choice.