I think my dad was one of the most intelligent people I ever had a chance to meet. Like almost all fathers and sons, we had our occasional problems, but I would be the first to say that he was a really special person. I was, and am, proud to have been his son.
Rather than just sing his praises today, I thought I would relate a story told by a friend.
Honey and I had recently started dating. Students at Stephen F. Austin College in Nacogdoches, we had taken a weekend trip to deliver a puppy to a cousin in Sherman, Texas. On the way back to school, we stopped to visit the Brooks family, old family friends, in Lancaster.
Gus Brooks was head of a large advertising agency in Dallas, a Rice grad, handsome and outgoing, with an easy way about him that put you immediately at ease. I think Honey fell for him on the spot. We were sitting out back by the pool when Gus told this story:
“Mo {my dad – short for Melvin Otis} and I were driving in Houston one day when we were almost hit by a pickup truck that was speeding down the shoulder. Your dad had a few things to say about that, and the next thing I know, the truck was stopped sideways in front of us and this huge guy got out.
He walked up to the driver’s side of the car, and I swear his belt buckle hit about mid-way up the window.
‘What did you call me.’ he yelled.
Mo looked up and said ‘Well, I called you a son of a bitch – but I didn’t know you were such a big son of a bitch.’
I thought we were both gonna die, but the guy just stood there a minute, then he started laughing, got back in his truck and left.”
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