I was just talking to a co-worker of mine today. She had to pick her son's car up from some towing yard in downtown Detroit. Her son had driven down to the District Court to fight a traffic ticket. Not being familiar with Detroit, he just parked his car right in front of the police station / court and walked in.

(I can see my dad shaking his head right now.... oh boy)

Anyway, while he was inside, fighing his ticket, his car was being towed away. Yikes!
Out of anyone else I know, my Dad knew his way around all of Detroit, Downtown, surrounding areas, etc. like the back of his hand. I mean, he could drive to Tiger Stadium with his eyes closed. He could sniff his way down to the City County Building (now the Coleman A. Young Municipal Center) with his nose plugged and his hands tied behind his back. Got called for Jury Duty? Call Dad!! He knows the way!! And he'll even draw you a nice little easy-to-read map with his black sharpie marker! :)

I realized today that I don't have the luxury of calling my Dad up and asking for directions anymore. He was my Christopher Columbus, my Magellan. He was a living, breathing MapQuest and GPS system put together! He could get through any traffic mess by taking alternate routes, weave around roads that were closed due to construction, you name it.
During my divorce proceedings in 2006, My Dad went to every single one of my court dates with me. When I'd call him up to tell him when the next date was, I didn't even have to ask him if he'd go with me. It was just an automatic "I'm taking you" thing. I would tell him the date and which building, and he'd say, "ok baby".

That was one of the darkest periods of my life, but my Dad was the shining beacon in the middle of the storm. He wasn't just transporting me to an unfamiliar, intimidating area, he was supporting me, shielding me, carrying me through it. He served as protector, rock, Father. (and an excellent road-trip buddy)

The mornings we drove downtown, he'd walk out of the house with his white styrofoam coffee cup, steaming. Of course he'd always ask me if I wanted a cup of coffee, and most of the times I'd take him up on his offer.

The best part of driving with him was hearing him talk about his old truck driving days- all the deliveries he'd make all over the city to different places, offices, businesses, hospitals. We would talk some about my divorce proceedings, but he offered me his Fatherly advice and his words of wisdom; and those conversations are between me and my Dad and I hold them sacred.
Once inside the building, we would make our trek to the room, courtroom, office, conference room, etc that we were supposed to be in that day. Of course my Dad would always dress up in a suit and tie, and always with his Teamsters pin on his lapel.

In the crowded elevators of the Coleman Young building, I would hold on to my Dad's arm, just like I was 6 years old all over again. And of course he'd always be wearing his Old Spice aftershave. Looking back, that is still the single-most comforting smell to me in the world, and nothing could ever replace it. There weren't many words, we would just stare at the numbers at the top inside the elevator, waiting for our floor.

No matter what fight I had ahead of me on any given day during that time, I always knew I'd be OK because my Dad was with me. I had a confidence that I wouldn't have had if it weren't for my Dad being with me.

Thank you, Dad. Thank you for always being by my side.