Sidney is 100!

My dad, Sid Rose, turned 100 on June 15! Need I say more? Probably not, but I will anyway. Especially since this is Father’s Day!

First, an update. Some of you may have noticed we have been missing in action for the past few weeks. In fact, it’s been over a month since we last posted Mountain Biking My Way. We haven’t lost interest, but we have been busy! Gail was wrapping up her stranger-than-fiction school year, and we were getting ready to head east for almost 2 months. We drove from Park City, camping for 2 nights, until we arrived at our cottage in Buck Hill Falls, PA, where we spent 6 days getting it ready for renters, then headed to Marblehead, MA, to help my dad celebrate his 100th, then to Sebasco, ME where we will be staying through much of July. We finally have time to take a breath, and catch up with the blog.

Back to my dad. The Roses are a hardy stock. My grandfather on my dad’s side lived to 102. My dad’s older brother turned 101 in February. Another uncle is 91. Who knows if and what that means for me; all I know is I am a lucky guy to have had my dad’s company for so long.

My father’s family hailed from Michigan and North Dakota. My dad’s formative years were spent in Fargo. His dad was a fur trader who traveled the northern mid-west and Canada, trading for furs with the indigenous people of those areas. I remember him telling tales of surviving extreme weather while on the road. During one such adventure, he went so far as to draft his last will and testament while sitting in a snowed-in car, trying to get home. Fortunately, he always made it back!

My dad was an accomplished athlete, excelling in basketball as a youth. He tells stories of he and his best friend, Swede Johnson, hitchhiking from Fargo to California and back in search of a basketball scholarship. On his return, he was picked up just west of Laramie, Wyoming by the police who were rounding up “vagrants”. He was thrown in the local jail, his clothes were fumigated, he was fed, they spent the night, and then they were driven to the east edge of town and told never to return!

After a year at North Dakota State University (then known as North Dakota Agricultural College), my dad received his commission to the Naval Academy. It was 1939, and the services were anxious to push men (they were all men then) out to serve as quickly as possible, so his class of 1944 graduated in 1943, and he was assigned to a submarine to fight in the Pacific against the Japanese. He is a tall man, a bit over 6 feet, so life in a sub was not easy for him. He wore many hats, including navigator, communications officer and other roles, and tells stories of hearing torpedoes coming his way. Needless to say, he survived to return and raise a family

He met my mother, June, while at Annapolis. My mom was from Swampscott, MA, so after his return from the War, and a period post-war stationed in various places around the U.S., they settled in Swampscott, and then Marblehead, where he has lived since 1949!

My dad was always a bit of a rebel. From trivial things like owning the first Volkswagen in Marblehead, a Citroen, an early Volvo and an Audi. It wasn’t always easy to get them serviced! But he never wanted a car that others had. He was also fiercely independent politically, leaning toward Libertarianism, with an intense distrust of government, always questioning the status quo and conventional way of thinking.

My parents divorced when I was 13, and four years later, he married my step-mother, Ellaine, who brought 3 boys of her own to the family. After being the baby of the family, and effectively an only child for several years after my two much older siblings left the house, it was great to have 3 new brothers (and still is!). We no longer refer to Ellaine as our step-mother. She’s just our mother. As difficult as the divorce was when it happened. It has turned out to be a blessing, and has resulted in a much happier family all around.

On Monday, we had a socially distanced birthday celebration for my dad. We arranged for a drive-by parade by his local friends, as well as a 3-car salute from the Marblehead Police Department (it would have been all 5 cars in the fleet, but 2 were actually called away to respond to incidents!).

In addition, the Marblehead Veterans’ Agent fired a 3-shot cannon salute to my dad from the beach across the street from his home. It was a glorious day, and a wonderful celebration of his life, even with the necessary Covid-19 restrictions.

I am an extremely lucky guy to have my dad around for all these years. I look forward to celebrating his 101st next June!