Wood Richard L
Catholic
Oldest of 5 children, 3 boys 2 girls
Not in that order
Son of Arthur and Mary (neé Barnacle) of Wellesley
Drafted into a war that wasn’t
It was a conflict lost
My theater teacher said all the men who fought were monsters
But the only monster my father knew was the alcohol that made his father too friendly with a belt, his fists, anything to hurt everyone close to him
My father worked from below the poverty line as a child to middle class so his children didn’t have to see the ugly he did
He is the strongest man I know
If he fell they would have known how to bury him by the tag that he wore
The tag every man was issued
He saw active combat once in his two tours
His discharge came in 1973 signed by Nixon
We still have no idea all that he saw
Nor all of what he did
Radiomen like him had low survival rates and I am lucky to have him alive
To call him my father
His travel ban lasted 10 years and cost job offers
His work was, and still may be, classified
He’s a brilliant man who couldn’t attend the Ivy League college who accepted him
War takes impoverished young men like him
My theater teacher was lucky to be born into the privilege my father wasn’t
My father raised two stubborn, sassy, loving daughters like himself
Wood R L
Cath
One of five, the first
Born to Irish Catholic parents living in the suburbs of Boston
The only monster he knows is the memory of his father
Who he is the only of the five to forgive a sea of alcohol yelling, hitting
Breaking apart a home
He has taught me forgiveness, how to love, how to stand up for myself, how to laugh
He is not the stereotype my teacher thinks
