Conversations... with Dad

Monday, January 26, 2009

John Issacs - 1915 - 2008

As many of you may have already heard, John Issacs passed on Monday morning. I decided to post these pictures of John to pay tribute as my way of honoring who he was; and to encourage those who don't know who John Issacs was, to seek out that information. As we celebrate Barack, we need to be ever mindful of the those shoulders that we stand on. John Issacs had some very broad shoulders. He offered them willingly for 94 years. We were fortunate that John Issacs spent one weekend of every fall with us here in Atlantic City celebrating Pop Lloyd Weekend. He did that for over 10 years. John Issacs was also a Pop Lloyd Humanitarian Award recipient and often spoke to students at our Educational Symposium at The Richard Stockton College of New Jersey. He was a commanding presence, who w

ould catch the bus at Port Authority on Thursday evening so that he could be here early Friday for the symposium. We will cherish the many memories of this "no nonsense" giant who always called it the way he saw it. We will miss him, but our lives are much fuller and richer because we had the privilege of his presence.

You can find information about John Issacs by following any of the links below:

Sports Illustrated: The Timeless Wonder

The Black Fives Blog

The Black Fives

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About this Blog

My father died in 2003, 6 months after my mother. After his death, one of the things I missed most was our conversations. So I started this blog. We would sit at the kitchen table or on the front porch and have these long, philosophical conversations about the state of everything. Then we would solve all of the world's problems over a cigarette and a cup of coffee. One of the warmest memories I have was of him sitting on the front porch talking to me while I painted around him. It was the beginning of summer and he was commenting on how he wished he could pick up a brush and help. He often would read something from the paper and then voice his righteous indignation. It would end with a "It's a damn shame!" or "They must think we're stupid." I miss that. I miss the bond we shared around joint perspectives. And I miss the knowledge that could only come from one seasoned with so many life experiences, especially now that I have come to the point in my life that I know the real important questions to ask. I am 60 years old, and came of age during the '60s. I'm a proud boomer. I remember when poets poeted

Writers wrote... Actors acted out, Painters created art from everything and anything that remained still long enough to be painted

and there was truly civil disobedience at the very thought of someone taking away any of our freedoms.

And the world began to shift... A little. Well, I took a rest. And it must have been a long rest. I feel like Rip Van Winkle. Anyway, by the time I REALLY woke up things were shifting back. Way back. And right now, I gotta say I'm feeling like it's gonna take more thin I got to turn this around. And my dad's not here to share my anger, to talk about our outrage, and to answer my questions. So here is where I can have the conversations I would have with him if he were still here and we could share a cigarette and a cup of coffee on his front porch.