daddy's girl

make no mistake. i'm a daddy's girl and i know how to work it.

still.

but even though the days of me needing dad's ok to validate the decisions i make, or the things i write are dwindling, i sure hope he'll be honored by the words i have written here tonight.

my once strong and active dad is now a frail, yet proud and stubborn old man with congestive heart failure. there's still a twinkle in his eye and his dentures still gleam when he smiles. but much to his chagrin, he needs a walker to get around. and most days he has to wear depends because he can't get to the loo fast enough.

not much pep left in his steps.

and even though he sometimes has those "senior moments," he's still a pretty sharp cookie at 92. he's one of about six people in the country who still read a newspaper every day; and despite my constant bitching he still makes himself a cup of instant maxwell house coffee every morning to go with the bacon and eggs he's not supposed to eat. at night he sits in the den and devours a big bowl of artery-clogging, high fat vanilla ice cream while watching c-span.

makes me crazy but he's 92 and still breathing. what can you do?

throughout the years dad and i have had our "moments" but we share a love of sports (i'm so sorry i didn't take up golf a lot sooner like he wanted me to!), fast cars, polo shirts and globe trotting. i totally get my love of adventure from him. every summer we used to load up the car with my barbie dolls and our overstuffed suitcases and head to whatever city the shrine convention was. i cherished those days and i know dad did, too. i remember driving to new york in a sleek 1964 blue ford galaxy convertible, and then making our way out west for the first time in a 1976 ford ltd station wagon. always ford and more often than not, always blue.

at the time dad was working as a postal clerk and every now and then when he was quizzing me on the names of the state capitols he would talk about his days "running the road." during WWII dad was a pullman porter and was proud of the fact that he had traveled to every state on the mainland during his tenure. being a porter sounded like the best gig in the world to me but i had no idea how significant porters really were until i was an adult.

i was working for the ft. worth star-telegram out of L.A. and had been assigned to write a review on a showtime movie called "10,000 men named george." starring andre braugher, the 2002 film chronicled the contributions of porters and a. philip randolph. high up in the review i mentioned that my dad had been a porter and about three weeks later i got a call from a boston-based author who wanted to interview dad for a book he was writing on porters called "rising from the rails." it has since been made into a documentary.

that was the beginning of dad's 15 minutes.

earlier this year i got a call from a woman who works for images usa in atlanta. they were holding an event in chicago to pay tribute to the surviving porters and wanted to know if dad would be willing to come. i was absolutely elated and committed him before calling home to see if he felt up to it. he said he'd love to go if he were able. my brother, mother and i went back-and-forth on the issue for a while. mom didn't want him to go at all (end of story), and my brother wasn't sure that he was strong enough to endure a 10-hour train ride. i argued that getting out of the house would be good for him. he's a road runner. walker or no walker, he needs to run-- sometimes. finally, we all got on the same page and my brother escorted dad to chicago. regretfully, i was unable to be there because i was on assignment in south africa.

prior to their arrival in the windy city dad had already done some local media in cincinnati. in chicago he was featured on wgn and in a wonderfully written story about the event in the june 2 issue of jet magazine. below is a piece written up in the cincinnati enquirer by a friend and colleague of mine on the turner family's newest media darling.

i am still beaming. the man who once lamented that he once thought that "he was going to be somebody" finally got his due. he is and has always been somebody. i couldn't be prouder to call him dad.

happy father's day daddy. i'm heading to the driving range with my 7-iron in the ayem. i'll make you proud yet!

WILLIAM TURNER, 92, WYOMING

Interviewed by: Son Gary Dixon, Springfield Township

With Union Terminal celebrating its 75th anniversary, Cincinnati Museum Center invited retired Pullman porter Turner to make the inaugural StoryCorps recording here.

Most of the conversation with his son was about his railroad career (1941-53) out of Union Terminal.

He worked overnights, preparing sleeping quarters for passengers and caring for them until the train arrived in New York City the next morning. Turner also worked the Cincinnati-Chicago route, and some Canadian charters.

"I enjoyed being a porter because I got to see most of the country," he says. Until attending a Pullman reunion last month in Chicago, he didn't think he had done anything special. "It was a just a job, and I needed a job."

But recording an oral history was very special to his son.

"You don't think about doing something like this unless someone brings it up," says Dixon, a retired school teacher. "It's important to do this. This is who we are as humans. If you don't record the history, you don't get a perspective of what happened, and what Cincinnati was like."

enquirer photo of gary dixon and william turner by michael e. keating