Walking through the doors on a hot, humid summer day you would look forward to relief in the air conditioned room but the smell of leather was almost too much to handle. The little shoe shop in downtown Houston was not much to look at. It was a place where people went not to purchase shoes but to have them repaired. Boots and laces would hang from the ceiling and boxes upon boxes of shoes were stacked as high as I had ever seen. This was a place my Dad visited a few times a year. I thought that everyone’s Dad had their shoes resoled on a regular basis, but it wasn’t until I was older that I understood that my Dad was not like just any other Dad.
My Dad took pride in his profession. He was an educator. He taught, was a superintendent and a principal. He went to work in a suit with white dress shirts (heavy starch) a skinny tie and always a pin on his lapel of the flag. His shoes were shined, cologne on and always freshly shaven. He was not your ordinary school principal. If you needed to talk to Mr. Campos and you did not have an appointment, good luck tracking him down! He was always walking the halls of the elementary school. It was a two story school and believe me he covered the grounds several times a day. He walked holes in the soles of his shoes regularly.
Dad spent good money on his suits and shoes and did not come from a society where it was easier to buy new. When he threw a pair of shoes away it was because they had truly been worn out.
He had a twinkle in his eye when he saw me (I was definitely his “little girl”), could fill a room with laughter, could edge a yard with his ax (he never owned a weed eater) and appreciated a lawn chair and a cool afternoon. He never missed my band concerts, would pick me up at a moment’s notice when I wanted to come home for the weekend from college and always encouraged me to be self-sufficient.
The things I have done in my lifetime; the chances I have taken and roads I have traveled to fulfill my passions are because of the passion he instilled in me.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think about him and I miss him terribly. I’ll always be his little girl and one day I will get to hold his hand again.
