Men recall life lessons learned from their fathers
Sil Poli fondly remembers his relationship with his father as talks about his childhood.
Julius Franks (left), Sil Poli (center), and Chuck Evanina talk about their childhood memories with their fathers.
Roberto M. Esquivel/HeraldStandanrd.com
Julius Franks talks about his relationship with his father during an interview at the Uniontown Adult Recreation Center recently.
Chuck Evanina smiles as he recalls the values instilled to him by his father.
?By word and deed, fathers influence the lives of their children.
Recently, three members of the Uniontown Adult Recreation Center — all sons of coal miners — looked back at their own fathers and recalled lessons they learned in respect, concern and love.
“I would use the words respect, God and family,” said Chuck Evanina, 83, of Franklin Township, talking about his father, Michael Evanina, who died from black lung in his 50s. “He was a wonderful, wonderful person.”
“When you think about what they did and how they went about doing it, you can’t believe it,” said Julius Franks, 84, of Uniontown, about his father Ralph Franks, who also suffered black lung and died at age 89.
“I was a Depression baby. But my dad always had food on the table and when school time came, he took us downtown and bought us shoes and pants,” said Sil Poli, 68, of Uniontown, about his father, Angelo Poli, who died at age 66 of black lung and heart disease. “He did it all.”
Like today, times were tough when these men were growing up, but they remember their fathers as good providers for their large families.
“My dad did everything he could to put food on the table,” said Poli, who noted that in addition to working the mines, his father ran a tavern called Poli’s in Uniontown, where the Blue Moon is located today.
Poli, who has a daughter and three grandchildren, retired as a custodian in the Laurel Highlands School District and previously worked as a deputy warden at the Fayette County Prison. He said, “My dad always told us you’ll never get anywhere unless you work.”
“My father made a garden and raised pigs and cows,” said Evanina, who is retired from PPG in Greensburg, where he worked in the warehouse.
Evanina, who has three children and three grandchildren, said, “My dad shared his garden with the neighbors. They called him Bike Mike. He was a big, tall guy but his heart was just as big.”
“Dad grew enough in his garden that we could can for the winter,” said Franks, who retired from the U.S. Postal Service in Uniontown. He and his wife had no children of their own but raised a girl.
Poli also recalled his father teaching his sons to hunt, while Evanina said his father would gather mushrooms.
Yet, sometimes the family had to make do.
Franks said, “We had two pairs of shoes — one for every day and one for Sunday. If there was a hole in the shoe, we put a piece of cardboard in it.”
Franks told a story about his father singing on paydays.
“When I asked him why, he said, ‘I’m doing that because I don’t want to get mad about the bills I have to pay,”’ Franks said.
Their fathers didn’t take money lightly and taught their children the value of a dollar.
Franks said, “He told us to save something out of your pay — even if a nickle or a dime. Back then, a dollar was a lot of money.”
Poli’s father helped his children save for their future.
He said, “My dad would put money in a bank for us. We never saw it until we were 21.”
Church was important to these men and to their sons as well.
“He made sure we went to church every Sunday,” said Poli, who is a member of St. Therese Roman Catholic Church in Uniontown.
“You pattern yourself after your parents,” said Franks, who also belongs to St. Therese, where he is an usher.
“I attribute a lot of my love for God to my parents. My dad made sure we confessed at Easter,” said Evanina, who belongs to St. John Roman Catholic Church in Connellsville.
Evanina also noted his father taught him a love of country.
“I was a young 17-year-old when I joined the Merchant Marines in World War II and he was so proud of me,” Evanina noted.
Their fathers taught these men how to conduct themselves, showing them by word and example, the meaning of respect.
“The way I deliver myself — I show respect to others because that was the way I was brought up. There are great people here (at the Uniontown Adult Recreation Center),” said Evanina. “I have nothing but respect for them.”
“My father taught me how to respect people,” said Poli. “Never say anything bad about anyone. If you can’t say anything good, don’t say anything.”
Friendships were valued by their fathers and they were appreciated by their friends.
“You wouldn’t forget him if you met him,” said Evanina.
“We lived in an Italian neighborhood and he wrote letters to all their people in Italy,” said Franks, whose family name Fociani was changed by officials in America. “They would come to him to read their letters and he’d answer them for him.”
Their fathers were also protective of their children, setting rules designed to keep them on the straight and narrow.
“My father wouldn’t allow us out of the house to play with other kids if he thought we would get in trouble. I respect him for that,” said Poli. “I have a daughter — she’s now 42 — and we always worried about her. That’s where that came from.”
“Dad would always tell us when you’re out after midnight, you’re up to no good,” said Franks.
“I was in my 20s and had to be home by 11 (p.m.),” said Poli.
Yet, these men showed tenderness with their children.
Franks said, “He was a strong man, but mother dished out the punishment. Dad would just wink at us.”
“My dad would go to the lodge every Sunday and always came home with candy bars for us — a little treat,” said Poli.
When Poli was 9 or 10 years old, he had to have surgery to remove a scar and his tonsils.
“My dad promised me a new bike if I didn’t cry. When I got home from the hospital, it was waiting for me,” he said. “I was the only one in the neighborhood with a two-wheel bike.”
On Father’s Day, these men continue to think about their fathers and still miss them.
“He was in the cavalry in Italy and we have a picture of him right beside his horse. I still miss him, especially when I look at that picture,” said Franks.
Poli, who often visits his parents’ graves, said, “The hardest thing to accept is when he died.”
But their memories give them comfort.
In fact, Evanina said, “I don’t think I have any bad memories.”