Randman's World

Today would be my father's 78th birthday. He passed away back in 1993, but he's still with me everyday. We named our son after him, both as a family tradition, and to honor him.

He was a very wonderful man. He spent 37 years working with the dreg of society, 27 years with the Federal Bureau of Prisons, and 10 years running Alpha House, a halfway house in Springfield. He started his career at Alcatraz, working there for over 10 years.

Despite being surrounded by criminals all day, my father was a very loving and funny man. He also cared about the ex-offenders who truly wanted to make a go of it. More than once, I was stopped by former residents of Alpha House, who recognized me as "Charlie's Kid", to tell me how tough but fair my dad was, and how he had helped them make it.

I owe most of my sense of humor to him. I can still remember my dad almost passing out from laughing so hard at Johnny Carson's "Art Fern" character, describing the new Hooker Urn. What's a hooker urn? About $75 a night, but that's not important right now!He spent several years as mayor of our home town, Republic, MO, and then finally decided to officially retire. He remarried after my mother passed away in 1984, and moved around with his new wife, who was pursuing her own career. He spent some time in St. Joseph, and worked at KCI, screening luggage. He didn't really need to work, but he enjoyed interacting with the passengers and "messing with them" a little bit. He often liked to joke with people, while x-raying their bags, that the bottles of booze in their carryons must be bar-b-que sauce. Or, joking with the women that he could see all their deepest, darkest secrets (obviously, this was long before 9/11). He moved to Reno, NV, and worked at a grocery store that had slot machines, paying out the jackpots. Again, mostly to just mess with people.

Ultimately, cigarette smoking and poor diet weakened his heart, and he passed away from congestive heart failure, at the young age of 65. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him, and wish I could talk with him. I know he'd be proud of little Charlie, and would be happy that he has a namesake. I saw him once with some of his wife's grandchildren, and I saw a side I didn't remember. He was so sweet with the kids. I really wish Charlie could know his Grandpa.