I finished my Dad's obituary (http://www.dejohnfuneral.com/joseph-gutoskey/) Wednesday morning. I choked up when I read it back to my wife. The finality of it all hit me. He's not here anymore to provide advice. He was a treasure trove of knowledge and skill, most of it self-learned. He always had the right answer.
He passed away at 4:40 Wednesday morning at his home in Wickliffe, Ohio after a six month battle with colon cancer. Tuesday was his 70th Wedding Anniversary. He met the love of his life, my Mom Emma, at work in the mid-1940's (he always said he chased her until she caught him) and they were married on February 23, 1946.
An obituary is never enough to tell a complete story of a person. I need to share more about him.
I think there are two traits that tell the story of my Dad. The first is giving. He lived to help others from a very early age. The second trait is a thirst for knowledge. Whatever he attempted in life, he did with gusto. He did nothing with a lazy spirit, whether it was his profession or his hobbies.
He passed away at 4:40 Wednesday morning at his home in Wickliffe, Ohio after a six month battle with colon cancer. Tuesday was his 70th Wedding Anniversary. He met the love of his life, my Mom Emma, at work in the mid-1940's (he always said he chased her until she caught him) and they were married on February 23, 1946.
An obituary is never enough to tell a complete story of a person. I need to share more about him.
I think there are two traits that tell the story of my Dad. The first is giving. He lived to help others from a very early age. The second trait is a thirst for knowledge. Whatever he attempted in life, he did with gusto. He did nothing with a lazy spirit, whether it was his profession or his hobbies.
He Gave From An Early Age
Dad grew up during the Depression and learned the necessity of hard work early in life. At age 7, he searched along the railroad tracks for loose pieces of coal to help in heating the family home. At age 10, he stood with his wagon outside grocery stores hoping to make money transporting groceries without much success. By age 11, he was working part-time (he was in school) for Ben Fleisher, the owner of a local dry cleaning business. He washed the floor and performed miscellaneous chores. Later, he ran the shop while Ben worked in back or made deliveries. Each week, he gave his earnings to his mother and the two of them went to Cleveland's West Side Market where they bought food for the family of eleven. He lost this job at age 16 when Ben passed away. For two years after, his day consisted of a street car ride to Cleveland's West Tech High School, another street car ride after school to a local bowling alley where he set pins until after midnight for a nickel a game (nickels that were given to his mother), and then a third street car ride back home. After several hours of sleep, he'd be back on the street car to school. He often spoke about the bruises and knots on his legs from wayward bowling pins. And when did he get the time to study (as he received very good grades)? His younger brother attended the same school ten years later and was saddled with the standard Dad had set. His teachers still remembered Dad after ten years!
Upon graduation from high school in 1941, Dad began his career as an electrician for Thompson Products, one of the companies that eventually became TRW Corporation. He raved about the stellar education he received at West Tech. He knew more than many of the electricians who had been in place for years. As a result of this job, he saved enough money to buy a house for his family and then worked with his father to customize it for his family. He often stated that while the Depression ended in economic terms in the late 1930's, it wasn't over for his family until he began his job at Thompson Products in the early 1940's.
Dad met Mom at work and they married in 1946. By 1950, he had two daughters and a son. And his knowledge and work ethic weren't lost on his bosses. He became the foreman over his fellow electricians in 1950.
In 1954, with another son in tow, he moved Mom and his four children into a new house in Wickliffe, Ohio that he built during the previous two years with his father. It was a two story, four bedroom house with a basement. And he owed only $500 on it!
By 1959, he now had two daughters and three sons and was tapped to supervise the construction of an aircraft parts plant for TRW in California. He moved the family to Anaheim where they lived for a year. The family, now with three daughters and three sons, moved back to Wickliffe in 1960, and added two more sons by 1963 (for a total of eight).
Dad could build or repair ANYTHING! He was a carpenter, an electrician, a plumber, a sheet metal worker, a drywall installer, a welder; he could fix automobiles, any kind of engine, washers, dryers, small appliances--you name it.
He always had a project going and as his oldest son, he used me as his helper. While I freely admit I often assisted with a poor attitude, he knew what he was doing. I paid attention and received an education I didn't know I needed. Dad finished the basement, added a room at the back of the house and built a storage shed out back. In the mid-1960's, my grandfather rolled his 1962 Rambler on the east side of Cleveland. He was fine but the car was totaled. That didn't stop my Dad. We worked for weeks on that vehicle, I learned quite a bit about body work and Dad ended up with a second car.
During the late 1960's, he turned the 15x40 crawl space at the west end of our house into a finished basement--by hand! He broke up the concrete using only a sledgehammer and dug out the six feet of clay beneath it, wheel-barrel by wheel-barrel. He shored up the walls, poured footers, and laid block up to the old footers. And then poured a concrete floor one bag at a time.
The knowledge I gained as Dad's helper paid dividends over the years. But of more importance were the lessons I learned about a willingness to take risks by tackling jobs better suited for a professional and the work ethic he instilled in me. To this day, if there is something I can do myself, I will never pay somebody else to do it for me.
He remodeled substantial parts of the homes of three of his children and his brother, finished the basements of several of his sisters, and still found the time to keep things in working order at home.
I once gave him a call from Fort Wayne about an air conditioning unit I was installing in a wall of my first home. He walked me through the 220 wiring to the breaker box over the phone. And at that same home, I built a storage shed out back, just like Dad did. He was always my consultant, even from afar. That's the kind of advice and knowledge I am going to miss.
This is hard to believe but until a new oven malfunctioned while still under warranty as he neared the age of 90, neither Mom nor any of his eight children had ever seen a repairman in the house. He installed a new water heater in his basement in his late 80's!
Dad certainly wasn't opposed to nepotism. His position at TRW and the respect he engendered allowed him to find most of his children jobs during summers with TRW or its subcontractors so they could earn enough money to fund or knock a hole in the cost of their college educations.
Dad retired in 1988 as Superintendent of Maintenance at TRW's Home Office in Euclid, Ohio. But his retirement didn't last long. TRW eventually sold their home office facility in Euclid and Dad, knowing more than anybody about the sprawling facility, was asked to return as a consultant. Amazingly, he retired a second time in 2013 from Northrop Grumman at the age of 90!
Upon graduation from high school in 1941, Dad began his career as an electrician for Thompson Products, one of the companies that eventually became TRW Corporation. He raved about the stellar education he received at West Tech. He knew more than many of the electricians who had been in place for years. As a result of this job, he saved enough money to buy a house for his family and then worked with his father to customize it for his family. He often stated that while the Depression ended in economic terms in the late 1930's, it wasn't over for his family until he began his job at Thompson Products in the early 1940's.
Dad met Mom at work and they married in 1946. By 1950, he had two daughters and a son. And his knowledge and work ethic weren't lost on his bosses. He became the foreman over his fellow electricians in 1950.
In 1954, with another son in tow, he moved Mom and his four children into a new house in Wickliffe, Ohio that he built during the previous two years with his father. It was a two story, four bedroom house with a basement. And he owed only $500 on it!
By 1959, he now had two daughters and three sons and was tapped to supervise the construction of an aircraft parts plant for TRW in California. He moved the family to Anaheim where they lived for a year. The family, now with three daughters and three sons, moved back to Wickliffe in 1960, and added two more sons by 1963 (for a total of eight).
Dad could build or repair ANYTHING! He was a carpenter, an electrician, a plumber, a sheet metal worker, a drywall installer, a welder; he could fix automobiles, any kind of engine, washers, dryers, small appliances--you name it.
He always had a project going and as his oldest son, he used me as his helper. While I freely admit I often assisted with a poor attitude, he knew what he was doing. I paid attention and received an education I didn't know I needed. Dad finished the basement, added a room at the back of the house and built a storage shed out back. In the mid-1960's, my grandfather rolled his 1962 Rambler on the east side of Cleveland. He was fine but the car was totaled. That didn't stop my Dad. We worked for weeks on that vehicle, I learned quite a bit about body work and Dad ended up with a second car.
During the late 1960's, he turned the 15x40 crawl space at the west end of our house into a finished basement--by hand! He broke up the concrete using only a sledgehammer and dug out the six feet of clay beneath it, wheel-barrel by wheel-barrel. He shored up the walls, poured footers, and laid block up to the old footers. And then poured a concrete floor one bag at a time.
The knowledge I gained as Dad's helper paid dividends over the years. But of more importance were the lessons I learned about a willingness to take risks by tackling jobs better suited for a professional and the work ethic he instilled in me. To this day, if there is something I can do myself, I will never pay somebody else to do it for me.
He remodeled substantial parts of the homes of three of his children and his brother, finished the basements of several of his sisters, and still found the time to keep things in working order at home.
I once gave him a call from Fort Wayne about an air conditioning unit I was installing in a wall of my first home. He walked me through the 220 wiring to the breaker box over the phone. And at that same home, I built a storage shed out back, just like Dad did. He was always my consultant, even from afar. That's the kind of advice and knowledge I am going to miss.
This is hard to believe but until a new oven malfunctioned while still under warranty as he neared the age of 90, neither Mom nor any of his eight children had ever seen a repairman in the house. He installed a new water heater in his basement in his late 80's!
Dad certainly wasn't opposed to nepotism. His position at TRW and the respect he engendered allowed him to find most of his children jobs during summers with TRW or its subcontractors so they could earn enough money to fund or knock a hole in the cost of their college educations.
Dad retired in 1988 as Superintendent of Maintenance at TRW's Home Office in Euclid, Ohio. But his retirement didn't last long. TRW eventually sold their home office facility in Euclid and Dad, knowing more than anybody about the sprawling facility, was asked to return as a consultant. Amazingly, he retired a second time in 2013 from Northrop Grumman at the age of 90!
Hobbies and Interests With Gusto!
Dad had a progression of hobbies during his life. And when he became interested in something, it was with great gusto. He was a lifelong Cleveland Indians fan and spent many evenings with his family members at games. The radio at home always had the games on. He passed onto me his love of baseball. As a wild left-handed pitcher growing up, he'd watch me walk or hit as many batters as I struck out. I can still see him behind the backstop watching me struggle and shouting, "follow through."
He and Mom participated in bowling leagues, both with great success. But he had three real passions: ham radio, golf, and the button box.
Dad became interested in ham radio as a boy. It became his lifetime hobby. I am not sure how he did it but he was able to get on the air (illegally) around the time he became a teenager in the mid-1930's. It wasn't until 1948 that he obtained his Class B license and his call letters of W8DOE. His ham friends called him "Joe Doe." As a child, I would hear him (and I can still hear him to this very day) looking for fellow hams with whom to converse: "CQ, CQ CQ, hello CQ. This is W8DOE, dog, ocean, edward calling CQ, CQ, CQ." He soon had his Class A license and in 2000, achieved his Extra class license. Despite talking to people all over the world over the years, he was a true "homebrewer" in the parlance of his fellow hams. That is, he built his own equipment and that is what gave him the most enjoyment in the hobby. His tower, still standing against the back of his house in Wickliffe had two motors, one to rotate the antenna and one to lower the upper structure out of the wind as necessary. He built it from scratch. Later in life he was President of the local Ham Radio Club.
He and Mom participated in bowling leagues, both with great success. But he had three real passions: ham radio, golf, and the button box.
Dad became interested in ham radio as a boy. It became his lifetime hobby. I am not sure how he did it but he was able to get on the air (illegally) around the time he became a teenager in the mid-1930's. It wasn't until 1948 that he obtained his Class B license and his call letters of W8DOE. His ham friends called him "Joe Doe." As a child, I would hear him (and I can still hear him to this very day) looking for fellow hams with whom to converse: "CQ, CQ CQ, hello CQ. This is W8DOE, dog, ocean, edward calling CQ, CQ, CQ." He soon had his Class A license and in 2000, achieved his Extra class license. Despite talking to people all over the world over the years, he was a true "homebrewer" in the parlance of his fellow hams. That is, he built his own equipment and that is what gave him the most enjoyment in the hobby. His tower, still standing against the back of his house in Wickliffe had two motors, one to rotate the antenna and one to lower the upper structure out of the wind as necessary. He built it from scratch. Later in life he was President of the local Ham Radio Club.
Our first and last rounds together played here In a roundabout way, Dad introduced me to the game of golf. In the corner of our garage was a white canvass bag with a set of mismatched golf clubs. They were his and he played the game at some point in time in the 1940's and 50's. In 1961 as a 10 year old, I began swinging these right-handed clubs even though I was a lefty. To this day, I play the game right-handed. I practiced the game at Wickliffe High School which was behind Dad's house. A couple of years later, I began caddying at Wickliffe's Pine Ridge Country Club. But I never actually played a round of golf on a "real" golf course until a nine-hole round at Wickliffe's Greenridge Golf Course at the age of 15. Dad had some connections at work who knew Eddie Garfield, the Pro at Greenridge, and he was able to get me a year's membership at Greenridge where my love of the game developed. We played our first round of golf together in 1969 after my freshman year at college. He was 46. It was a nine hole round at Greenridge. I think we both wished we had spent more time together on the golf course as I grew up.
Taken during our last round of golf together By the time I was out of college, Dad had really caught the golf bug. TRW had commissioned Pete Dye to build a golf course for the employees in Chesterland, Ohio. The course, public today and known as Fowler's Mill, opened in 1972 as a private course for TRW employees. The course was rated as high as 31 on Golf Magazine's "Top 100 Courses You Can Play" list. Dad even began building golf clubs before it became popular--for himself, for Mom, for my youngest brother. He had regular games with neighbors, his brothers-in-law, and work buddies. He and Mom took trips to resorts with couples from the neighborhood. He watched golf on TV every weekend. He watched every golf video he could get his hands on and he read all the classic golf instruction books (Hogan's "Five Lessons - The Modern Fundamentals of Golf", Nicklaus' "Golf My Way", John Jacobs' "Practical Golf" and others). Every time I visited, he had a new swing thought and we would play a course in the Cleveland area I had yet to play. And he got to the point where he was a fairly decent golfer. Our last round together was with Mom at Greenridge Golf Course on July, 8, 2009. We all walked. He was 86.
Mom and Dad at the annual Labor Day picnic Dad's other passion was the button box accordion. Mom had played the button box as a girl growing up in Kane, Pennsylvania. Mom casually mentioned to Dad in the early 80's that she played. He was quite surprised and by sheer luck, they were able to obtain the very button box she played as a girl, a very rare Mervar. Mom began playing seriously again, took lessons from a local button box legend, Joe Kusar, and became a playing member of Kusar's Gang. Dad committed himself to learning to play, obtained his own button box and joined Kusar's Gang with Mom in the early 80's. Mom and Dad frequented many of the Slovenian halls and festivals and not a weekend went by without Slovenian polkas playing in the house.
Dad loved life and his family and we now have a huge void in our lives. I'll be attending my first Polka Funeral Mass on Monday as I say good-bye to an amazing man. I can't wait to reunite with him in paradise after I live out my remaining years. May you rest in peace, Dad.
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