Highest Duty_ My Search for What Really Matters - Chesley B. Sullenberger [22]
These spontaneous little getaways to Dallas were a continual reminder to me about my dad’s appreciation of the distinctions between work and family. Family came first. Ahead of work and ahead of school. That’s how my dad lived long before “work-life balance” became a popular catchphrase.
I have great memories of my family life closer to home, too. We had a small boat, and on weekends we’d take it out on Lake Texoma, which covered eighty-nine thousand acres. My mom was a terrific water-skier, and she could make it halfway across the lake, like the Energizer Bunny on skis.
We’d also take the boat out to one of the sandy islands in the middle of the lake. We’d camp out for the night, sleep in a tent, wake up in the morning and cook breakfast, and then we’d just cruise around in the boat. My dad often let me take the wheel—to captain the ship for the afternoon. I’d get badly sunburned, but it was all worth it.
One year, my dad bought a sailing magazine which had plans in it for a simple boat. He got out his woodworking tools, and we used the plans to build a dinghy out of plywood, with a bamboo pole for a mast and a bedsheet for a sail. I taught myself how to sail in that boat. I feel like my dad and I did almost all the projects I could have hoped for. Using our hands to create things, we shared a lot of great hours together.
People have asked if my dad is my hero. I never really thought of him in those terms. To me, he was just a great role model on a lot of fronts, from how he found his own ways to appreciate life, to the honorable way he conducted himself. He was always a perfect gentleman, a man who almost never raised his voice. I don’t recall ever hearing him say a disparaging word about anyone.
Of course, looking back, there were sides of his personality that weren’t easy to understand at the time. My parents never wanted us to see them fighting, or even having a frank discussion. They would go into the bedroom, close the door, and later come out presenting a united front. They went to great lengths to shield us from any bickering. So I never saw the messy details of how a couple might find agreement. As a young adult, I ended up with an unrealistic expectation that marriages were free of conflict.
There was something else about my father. He’d have days when he’d say he was in a “blue funk.” He didn’t fully explain himself, and outwardly, he seemed OK. But I now realize that he suffered from depression, probably for his entire life. In those days, when we thought of the word depression, we thought of the 1930s. The fact that being depressed could be a medical issue didn’t occur to a lot of people. And so my father never got help, and just tried to cope with that “funk” on his own.
Sometimes that meant passing out the hammers and building an addition to the house. Sometimes it meant loading up the car and heading down to that roadside motel in Dallas. And sometimes it meant going alone into his room, where he’d deal with demons never discussed with the rest of us.
MY MOTHER was ten years younger than my dad, and especially at first, they had a very traditional marriage. She left college at age twenty-one to marry him, and later regretted not graduating. When I was a teen, she went back to school, majoring in education, and went on to get her master’s degree. She taught kindergarten at first, and then spent most of her career as a first-grade teacher at Sam Houston Elementary School in Denison.
It was a great kick to be my mom’s son in Denison. People tend to love their first-grade teachers, and my mother was especially kind and nurturing with kids. She was absolutely beloved in town. It’s not a stretch to say she was something of a minor local celebrity.
My mother was a terrific pianist, too, and I just loved listening to her play Chopin. When I was in grade school, I’d always say to her, “Will you play more Chopin?” I’m not sure a lot of kids today, plugged into their iPods and cell phones, are calling out to their mothers for more Chopin. But my mother helped instill in me an appreciation