I am sure there are many here that, like me, have lost our fathers along the way. However, instead of mourning that loss, today I am celebrating the life of a remarkable man who I had the honor of calling Daddy for the first 8 years of my life. While our time together was short, the lessons of love, kindness and human decency he taught me I will always carry with me.
My father died in a car accident in the mountains of Jamaica on his way home from going to deliver the horrible news to a mother that her son had drowned. The son was a student at a school in Ocho Rios where my parents were volunteer teachers. My father's last known words ever spoken were to this mother, as he told her, "You have strength and courage. God will see you through." When times are trying, which they sometimes are, I can still find these words which resonate someplace deep within me.
My parents marched with Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King on the same South Side streets of Chicago where Senator Obama would later work as a community organizer. They answered JFK's call to service and packed their bags for service in the Peace Corps in Uganda. Then in the most transformative act of love, they adopted my brother and I and gave us a place to call home.
From his life, from his passions, from his educational excellence, from his belief in social justice, from the loving way he carried me on his shoulders and tucked me into bed at night -- from all of this and from the many more stories that I have heard from my own Mama for Obama, I know with a certainty that had he lived to see this day he too would have championed an Obama presidency.
Daddy, please know that I will work my heart out so that your grand child (and your future grand children) inherit the best America that we can give them.
Happy Father's Day, I love you always. John Wilson Northrop 1943-1980.
Ever your hopemongering daughter,
Jolly
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