Harvey Zabel, 1922-2001
Harvey was born in Nebraska during the Roaring 20's, but he came of age on a farm during the Great Depression. He first saw the west coast where he later moved the family as a member of the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) back in 1941. After Pearl Harbor, he joined the Army when he was 19. If he hadn't gotten the measles, he would have ended up in a unit which included glider pilots in the D-Day invasion. Instead, he ended up repairing aircraft in Guam. To the end of his days, his favorite thing was to attend the annual 33rd Troop Carrier re-unions.
With memories of the Pacific Northwest, he moved his young family to Oregon in 1950 to teach school, and did just that for over 30 years. I became the first Zabel in our family to be born here on the west coast.
As an educator, Harvey was one of the toughest teachers any high school student ever encountered. A lot of them hated him at the time but, over the years, I have had these grown up students tell me that, looking back, he was the best teacher they ever had.
I remember in 1963, when President Kennedy was assassinated, being ashamed of my middle name, Harvey. We were fighting a lot then, and parents used the belt instead of "time-outs." Besides, I didn't like the idea that Bryce Harvey Zabel had anything in common with Lee Harvey Oswald. I never, ever used the name Harvey. It is a little out-of-fashion, but I actually don't mind it like I used to. He must have been pretty proud of me to give me his own name, right?
When I was 14, we had a real "Wonder Years" moment that you can read about by CLICKING HERE. My dad, who I seemed to always in conflict with in those days, really came through for me when the chips were down on the day Neil Armstrong walked on the moon.
I also remember that he went fishing in the ocean one day with friends and came home late. Apparently their boat has capsized in the ocean and he'd spent over three hours hanging on to the side of the boat wondering if they'd be rescued and, I suppose, if he'd ever see his family again. He barely talked about it that day, and he never spoke about it after. That's the way those World War II vets were.
Later in life, he got a mini-political bug and got himself elected to the Cornelius City Council. It was small potatoes but he really enjoyed the experience even as he complained heartily about it. He died two weeks before I won the election that made me the Chairman of the Academy of Television Arts & Sciences. He'd have gotten a kick out of seeing that.
On the other hand, being a proudly committed Democrat, he was also spared seeing Bush elected to a second term and Arnold winning the California governorship.
I resented him, I guess, almost until the end. In those final years, he just never seemed to prioritize making any time to see my kids. When he died, they barely knew him. I tried to discuss this with him, but it was just one of those things that he never seemed to understand. Did I love him anyway? Yeah, I did.
So, that's my dad. Hard-ass, disconnected, responsible, civic-minded, historian, Democrat.
These days I have my own kids and Sunday I'm gonna hang out with them. We were planning a pretty physical family day but my youngest is nursing a broken arm so plans have changed.
I guess I have no profound insight here other than the bottom line: even when you fight with your dad, he's still the most important man in your life. I'll try to keep that in mind and walk just a little lighter around my kids.
