The Smartest Person in the World

 

When I was a child I thought my dad was The Smartest Person in the World. No one else's dad could make light switches and phone jacks magically appear. No other dad could create new mechanical and useful devices from scraps of disparate junk (he MADE me a slide projector!). No one else I knew liked to do complicated math problems for "fun" like my dad.

 

If it broke The Smartest Person in the World would fix it. If it wasn't broke he would take it apart and put it back together and declare "Oh, I know how they did it. I can make this!" People would drop by with old TVs, VCRs and other such junk for my dad to put his masterful mind and adroit hands to work. "I found this in a burned building and thought you'd want it!" someone would say and sure enough my dad would clean it, fix it and deposit it somewhere in our house. We were the only family in my working class town, I'm sure, that had telephones and TVs in every room (even the bathroom); we were definitely in the running for the oldest living washing machine and dryer in the State of Louisiana. I'm positive we had the first home computer in our and all the surrounding parishes (i.e. counties to everyone OUTSIDE Louisiana). This drove my mom crazy. She wanted new things and wasn't impressed that he could revive the old or dead. She eventually left him.

 

The Smartest Person in the World did the traditional dad things like teach me to ride a bike and kick a soccer ball, but he also taught me how to look up at the sky and pick out from the dense gauze of the Milky Way the constellations ("Celestial Navigation" is what he called it). He taught me to play chess and cards before I could read. And he told us the most wonderful stories of the happiest days of his life when he was piloting large naval ships at sea. He told us how he could travel to the Galapagos Island without the need of any other navigational equipment but the stars and knowledge of how the ocean currents strayed.

 

When I was 15 I did not like my dad and felt that he just "didn't understand me" (who understands a 15 year old!). I was angry that he made me grow up in the most unforsaken god-awful place in the planet, that he had no ambition to make a lot of money, that he let my mom walk over all over him, that we had to be so different from everyone else---I was angry angry!! My dad and I lived in the same house, but in different islands of existence. Yet even amidst all that isolation and anger I still thought he was The Smartest Person in the World. The poor man hadn't a clue about how to handle his daughters; he still doesn't most of the time, it just all matters less. Those teenage years were necessary in order to reach these current calm waters of old age, this affection, this cherishing and valuing of the unblinking love my father provides...that unconditional pure love no other man has ever been able to give me.

 

In college I realized my dad may not be The Smartest Person in the World--perhaps maybe Stephen Hawkings and Carl Sagan might be smarter. Yet although my dad just looked like a man that was successfully ordinary and blended in with every other successfully ordinary man of his generation, no one really knew the life he had given up for us, how he wrestled opposition his whole life, or that his IQ stood at 160. No one here knew how he had survived typhoid fever, military coups, gave up a respected career and left his beloved homeland to live in secrecy in the states. How despite his superior intelligence he endured racism and xenophobia in the states. How he had to watch his marriage turned ugly and have his two headstrong daughters challenge his every thought and wish.

 

Yet his struggles were not in vain. He instilled us with the importance of an education and a respect of all people. He taught me knowledge comes from discussion, not conclusion and exclusion. He taught me not to let your fears and hatred of those that are different to be my guide, and not to invoke God to justify any hatred. He was the first Feminist I knew. He is a Democrat, an Atheist and the Most Decent Person in the World. And he gave me something that will always remain inside me--those tough and indestructible genes of fortitude that tell me I shall be able to bear any of the difficult circumstances that come across my path too.

 

I want to tell him how touched I was by all his acts of kindness--to me, my sister, my children and all his loyal friends. I want to tell him how much I appreciate all he has done for me, all that he is continuing to do. I have a rushing sense from all the things I want to tell him; but I know I would just embarrass him. So I'll simply say, Happy Father’s Day Daddy, The Smartest Person in The World to me!

 

Memphis Saltos

Berkeley, CA

memphis_saltos@humminggirl.com

www.humminggirl.com