[Muncle]

A little background -- 1959, my dad was a cop, Chief of Detectives and head of narcotics in KC at a time when the only people who did drugs were drummers in jazz bands, at least in my mind. One his duties was to give speeches about the evils of narcotics to various civic groups. We lived in St. Peter's parish, a fairly large area that included a diversity of income groups. We were definitely toward the bottom. During the winter, the parish Holy Name Society had donated warm-up suits to our grade school basketball team. The whole team had to attend the next meeting wearing the warm-ups to thank them. And to my chagrin and total embarrassment, I discovered that dad was to give his narcotics spiel at that meeting.

Now understand, I was a 13 year old know everything. My dad was a high school dropout (something about a fistfight with a Christian Brother) and had, in my opinion, atrocious grammar and a lousy vocabulary. He talked like a stereotypical 30's movie cop. My friends' fathers would all be there, doctors, lawyers, business men. And I knew Dad's "We ain't got no", "he weren't" and "don't have none" expressions were going to be the laughing stock of the school. Not to mention the occasional profanity, okay more than occasional.

We thanked the guys for the jerseys and Dad gave his speech. He showed his case of dope and related implements. He showed his picture of the 500 lb man who hid his stuff taped to the underside of his fat layers. He talked about all the gandies dying on the streets. He admitted that there were cured heroin addicts, all out at St. Mary's cemetery. My gawd was I embarrassed.

Following the speech, I couldn't wait to get out of there. I planned to rush to the front, pack Dad's case, and get him on the road. Imagine my shock when I couldn't get to the front. When questions finally ended, I couldn't get near the head table. All those doctors, lawyers, and businessmen were crowding around the dais, trying to talk to my Dad just a little longer. One gentleman, the father of a friend, stopped me and said, "It never dawned on me that you were John's boy. He's got to be one the best speakers I've ever heard. You must be very proud." What the hell could I say? I guess I did get a bit smarter and grow up a bit more mature than night.