Patches: “Daddy’s Strictest Rule”

The time Dad stopped everything to listen to the music.

Image with orange background and white brick lines. There are two black hands being held out, they are wrinkled and worn from a life of hard labor. In front of these hands is the word "Patches" in yellow font with black shadow.

When I was a young teen, maybe fourteen or so, I was in Lebanon, Missouri, at my grandfather’s house with my dad. I don’t remember why we there, I suspect it was that my dad was doing work in the area – he sold and repaired office equipment in the 80s and 90s. At some point we were getting ready to leave, but my dad had gotten into a conversation with his dad about something that wasn’t interesting to me, and being a teenager, I did what a lot of us did back then, I asked for the keys and went and sat in his truck. I turned on the truck and listened to music while waiting. For some reason this was a thing back then. Do teens do this today when they get tired of waiting on their parents?

Just as he came out of the house, a song came on the radio I’d never heard before, but it had a cheesy quality to it I enjoyed. My dad got into the truck and immediately said, “Oh man, it’s Patches.” He reached over and turned up the radio. He continued, “I haven’t heard Patches in years.” He then did something I only saw him do once in his lifetime, he just stopped everything to listen to a song. Instead of driving off, he sat back and looked out the window, deep in contemplation and with tears in his eyes as he listened to the song Patches by Clarence Carter.

Here is that song:

So, we both sat there in silence and listened to the story of Patches. It’s a story about a 13-year-old African American boy who was called Patches because of his ragged clothes. He grew up in poverty with his siblings on a farm that his father tended to make ends meet and feed his family. His father on his deathbed tells Patches that he has to take care of the family, because he is the oldest son. I’m not going to recount the whole story, just listen to the song and take it in the way it was intended.

After the song ended, my dad wiped away the tears. He then went on to explain why it was so touching to him. My dad didn’t grow up on a farm, but he did work on one in the summers of his teenage years. He explained how he knew how grueling the work was and the idea of this 13-year-old boy having to take up the work on his own after his father died was so tragic and emotional to listen to. Combined with continuing to go to school, because “that was daddy’s strictest rule,” as the mother in the song says to Patches when he declares he’s going to drop out of school.

At the time, I didn’t realize how important this moment and song would become to me. My dad passed away a little over ten years ago, and when I hear this song now it takes me back to this moment with my dad. A time where my father stopped everything to listen to this emotional song.

“That was daddy’s strictest rule.”

A few years after this incident, the summer leading into my senior year of high school to be precise, my dad and I were very much poor and nearly homeless. That summer a friend of mine and I came up with this radio show concept and went to a local radio station to pitch it to the manager of the station. We were always coming up with creative endeavors and pushing ourselves to try new things and mediums. I remember that morning, dad was inquisitive as to why we were going to the radio station to pitch a show. The manager was super nice but explained that they really didn’t do that sort of thing. We were going to DJ a scripted comedy show with an emphasis on music. When I got home, dad began to be inquisitive again. He finally got to the point. He wondered if I was trying to get a job to help us out financially. I explained that wasn’t what I was trying to do, but that it was a creative thing my friend and I wanted to do, and we had to try.

He felt a bit of relief in that. He then went on to explain that he didn’t want me to get a job, as providing was his responsibility. He said, “finishing high school and getting your diploma is your responsibility. That’s the most important thing for you right now.” He didn’t want me to get a job and potentially mess up my grades.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was echoing the dad of Patches. His dad didn’t have an education, but it was important that his children get one. And while he was alive, he was working himself to the bone on the farm to provide for his family while his children focused on their education. It wasn’t until after he passed that Patches took up work on the farm out of necessity, but even still he had to keep working on his education as it was something his father wanted him to do.

This was the only time my dad and I had this discussion, and I took his message to heart. Despite it being hard on us financially, I never did look for a job and stayed focused on my schooling. This allowed me time to not only make decent grades but also do as many extracurricular activities as I wanted. I was in numerous clubs and acted in numerous plays (both at high school and college level). It also meant I had time to drop everything and take part in a small, special edition of our school newspaper in the wake of 9/11 with a small group of writers and editors. My story focused on ways to help out in the aftermath of the attack. It also meant I had time to continue to forge some great friendships, which was important for me through that difficult time.

Here is a photo taken after my graduation. From left to right: Papa Don (my dad’s dad), Dad, a brother (Micah), Me, and Andrew (another brother).

Conclusion.

Music often has important life lessons. And sometimes we miss those lessons, because we don’t stop everything and listen, really listen. I’m thankful dad took time to stop and listen to Patches. I’m thankful I was there for that moment. That song meant a lot to him and now I’m the one who cries when I hear it.

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