https://www.latimes.com/opinion/story/2023-06-17/fathers-day-radio-memories * Business * California * Climate & Environment * Entertainment & Arts * En Espanol * Food * Housing & Homelessness * Image * Lifestyle * Obituaries * Opinion * Politics * Science * Sports * Travel & Experiences * World & Nation * All Sections * _________________ * Newsletters * Photography * Podcasts * Video * _________________ * About Us + About Us + Archives + Company News + eNewspaper + For the Record + Got a Tip? + L.A. Times Careers + L.A. Times Store + L. A. Times Studios + News App: Apple IOS + News App: Google Play + Newsroom Directory + Public Affairs + Rights, Clearance & Permissions + Short Docs * Advertising + Place an Ad + Classifieds + Coupons + People on the Move + Find/Post Jobs + Local Ads Marketplace + Media Kit: Why the L.A. Times? + Hot Property Sections + Place an Open House + Sotheby's International Realty * Bestcovery * B2B Publishing * Business Visionaries * Hot Property * Crossword & Games * L.A. Times Events * L.A. Times Store * Subscriptions + Manage Subscription + EZPAY + Delivery Issue + eNewspaper + Students & Educators + Subscribe + Subscriber Terms + Gift Subscription Terms * Special Supplements + Best of the Southland + Escapes and Experiences + Healthy Living + Las Vegas Guide + Philanthropy Copyright (c) 2023, Los Angeles Times | Terms of Service | Privacy Policy | CA Notice of Collection | Do Not Sell or Share My Personal Information Sections * California * Entertainment * Sports * Food * Climate * Image * Opinion * | * Bestcovery * Coupons * Crossword * eNewspaper Show Search [ ]Search Query Submit Search Advertisement Opinion Opinion: My father may be gone, but 'our' radio is still going Illustration of a boy and father sitting atop an antique radio. Abstract soundwaves are in the background (Chuan Ming Ong / For The Times) By Robert McGee June 17, 2023 3 AM PT * Facebook * Twitter * Show more sharing options ShareClose extra sharing options * Facebook * Twitter * LinkedIn * Email * Copy Link URLCopied! * Print My most prized possession was once somebody's trash. It's a blocky, black radio that was manufactured in 1941, the year my father was 12 years old. I snatched it from the county landfill when I was 13, in 1978. The person who threw it away must have determined they couldn't fix it, though it seemed they thought someone else might. They had set the radio off to the side of the dumpster, safe in plain view, just in case some industrious person with know-how appeared. That person was my father, who ran an electronics repair business from our garage. Though at first reluctant to save "that ugly old thing," he seemed pleased hours later when he entered the kitchen announcing that the radio worked fine and had only needed a tube. For years after this, my father kept that radio on a shelf above his workbench, listening to country singers croon about lonesome truckers. Barbara Rose Killen, who died on June 3, fostered a surprising relationship with her son's partner. Opinion Opinion: My Catholic mother-in-law didn't rush to accept me as her gay son's partner. But we surprised each other We lost my mother-in-law on June 3. My bond with her was unexpected. Advertisement I like to think of myself as a minimalist, but since my father died in 1994, I've carried what I consider to be "our" radio thousands of miles from the Appalachian farm where I grew up, out to Los Angeles, and then many years later back home again. In California, I'd tune our radio to horse races being transmitted from Santa Anita or Hollywood Park while cleaning my kitchen. Or I listened to Paul Harvey, Casey Kasem or evangelists spouting "truths" about Jesus and cars. I've become somewhat protective, even superstitious, when it comes to our radio, which now resides on a shelf above the space where I work. These days I use it sparingly; I realize that each time it flickers to life could be its last. How does one go about finding ancient tubes nowadays? Where are the parents with the know-how to fix such things anymore? It was a Sunday when my father died. On the anniversary of that day each year I turn on our radio to make sure it still works, and also to see what's going on in the AM spectrum, which seems a world all its own. My yearly visit has become more than a ritual to keep me connected to a man who agreed to adopt me when he and my mother couldn't conceive -- a man who never seemed to understand me or what he considered frivolities, my love of reading books and writing stories, my nostalgia for all things abandoned, neglected or lost. Each time I listen to our radio, I see my father just as he was that day when we found it. I see his 40-something face and hear his amused, solemn voice as he decides to humor me and accept me just as I was. I see the gentle wind push his thinning hair across his even more gentle face as he watches me carry my great find to his truck, not knowing that I'm thinking, "What splendid luck!" Illustration of an open briefcase on a hotel bed. A book lies on top of other items in the case. Opinion Op-Ed: What my father carried in his secondhand briefcase told me everything If I hadn't gone to graduate school, I'd probably be the UPS driver my father, who valued stable employment, wanted me to be. My father could fix anything, and he often did -- like the final time he saved me from the side of a busy highway when the old Fiat he'd warned me not to buy broke down once again. My father's lack of fear, along with his decision to carve out an authentic life on the land without caring how the rest of the world measured success -- memories of these traits are among my greatest treasures. Each time I turn on our radio, I'm reminded of this. I'm also reminded that while some children might grow up playing sports or taking swanky vacations, my father and I built cattle fences and shared an old radio we found at the dump. Advertisement This year when I turned on our radio for the first time in a dozen months, I heard the booming voice of an evangelist sharing pretty much the same message I heard the last time I listened. He's preaching about the various ways one might earn the Father's eternal love and salvation when he interrupts his own sermon to announce a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to hurry down to the local Ford dealership to buy a new car. I marvel that our radio is still going, its signal strong and clear. I marvel at how, each time I listen, my father and I grow ever closer as the ad man's voice fades away. Robert McGee lives in Asheville, N.C. He has written for the Sun magazine, the Christian Science Monitor and the forthcoming book "Chicken Soup for the Soul: Angels and the Miraculous." OpinionOp-Ed Newsletter A cure for the common opinion Get thought-provoking perspectives with our weekly newsletter. Enter email address[ ] Sign Me Up You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times. More From the Los Angeles Times * Los Angeles, CA, Tuesday, May 17, 2022 Barbara Natterson-Horowitz, a UCLA researcher who studies animals to gain insights into human biology, visits the flamingo enclosure at the LA Zoo. Since so much medical research is focused on men, she has recently turned her attention to female animals to see what they might teach us about health issues affecting women. (Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times) Opinion Editorial: The L.A. Zoo's plan to house mountain lions and grizzlies shouldn't mean wrecking the view * FILE - People hold a sign in their car during a car parade to mark Juneteenth on June 19, 2021, in Inglewood, Calif. Communities all over the country will be marking Juneteenth, the day that enslaved Black Americans learned they were free. For generations, the end of one of the darkest chapters in U.S. history has been recognized with joy in the form of parades, street festivals, musical performances or cookouts. Yet, the U.S. government was slow to embrace the occasion. (AP Photo/Ringo H.W. Chiu, File) Opinion Opinion: Here's what celebrations of Juneteenth shouldn't be missing * FILE -Three variations of the AR-15 assault rifle are displayed at the California Department of Justice in Sacramento, Calif., on Aug. 15, 2012. The gunmen in two of the nation's most recent mass shootings, including last week's massacre at a Texas elementary school, legally bought the assault weapons they used after they turned 18. That's prompting Congress and policymakers in even the reddest of states to revisit whether to raise the age limit to purchase such weapons. (AP Photo/Rich Pedroncelli, File) Letters to the Editor Letters to the Editor: Want a semiautomatic weapon? Keep it at the gun range, not at home * A man with an "Iranian Cooking for Dummies" book on the phone ordering two pizzas. Opinion Op-comic: Family traditions and acquired tastes Advertisement A California Times publication Subscribe for unlimited access Site Map Follow Us * Twitter * Instagram * YouTube * Facebook * + eNewspaper + Coupons + Find/Post Jobs + Place an Ad + Media Kit: Why the L. A. Times? + Bestcovery * MORE FROM THE L.A. TIMES + Crossword + Obituaries + Recipes + L.A. Times Compare + L.A. Times Store + Wine Club + About/Contact + For the Record + L.A. Times Careers + Manage Subscription + Reprints and Permissions + Site Map Copyright (c) 2023, Los Angeles Times | Terms of Service | Privacy Policy | CA Notice of Collection | Do Not Sell or Share My Personal Information