With the knowledge of knowing that this weekend, May 7-9, will be a trying weekend for me and for my sister, Rosalyn, and even my 2nd oldest brother, Courtlandt, ... I want to dedicate this one to my Father, Jerry Don Davenport.
This Friday, May 7, marks the 7th year I've lived this Earth without the one who gave me the name that is tattooed across my back. My father was both born into this world and left it, on the same day. That was not intended by fate or by chance... It was a decision that his Children had to make. My father died from complications from a massive stroke. He was 54.
Probably the earliest memory of my father that I have is sitting on his lap, watching him and his friends on our patio deck drink Miller High Life and tell stories about female conquests and other male conversations. I remember sitting there, in awe, listening and vaguely understanding some of which they were saying. The stylish 70's that still crept into the early 80's this group of men, some who I hardly knew, planted seeds, unbeknowing to them, that would grow and manifest into part of who I am today.
In honor of my father, as I do every May 7th.. I will drink One Miller High Life, and play, The Gap Band's YOU DROPPED THE BOMB ON ME, on repeat very, very loud. As I child and as my sister could attest, whenever we heard this song blasting, and the grill going.. We knew our father was on one. Our father, for all the wisdom and love that he had..had two vices he struggled with... Alcohol and Women.
It was in times of my later High School years, that my father and I began to bond not just as father and son, but as men. He would give me deeper insight into his intellect.. into his struggles, his past, his pain, and his pleasures, usually in between gulps of a Quart of Miller. I even felt a sense of frustration just as I typed that last sentence because I remember having to pick him up from work and drive him beause he had lost his license for traffic violations and every monday(because he was off on Tues) he'd say, pull into the store.. Meaning the liquor store that was right across the street from his job.
I hated hearing him say that. Gimme a quart of Miller. Not because of anything, other than I hated to see my father drink. I would glare at him and scowl as he'd take that first long pull on the bottle and he'd just look at me, and in his eyes I could see him telling me, "You don't understand, son." but his lips would tell me, "Shut up and drive, boy." And I would drive. This was back when gas was 99 cent a gallon and I had a Ford Escort, with no power steering. LOL, all my homeys remember the Escort. That's how I ended up with big arms.. Driving that damn car. It was on these drives, through the city of the OB's backroads and alleys, that me and my father would talk and conversate on a variety of topics. Politics, Race relations, How I needed to put more "TRICKS" into my basketball game, my GF at the time, our family...
Probably the earliest memory of my father that I have is sitting on his lap, watching him and his friends on our patio deck drink Miller High Life and tell stories about female conquests and other male conversations. I remember sitting there, in awe, listening and vaguely understanding some of which they were saying. The stylish 70's that still crept into the early 80's this group of men, some who I hardly knew, planted seeds, unbeknowing to them, that would grow and manifest into part of who I am today.
In honor of my father, as I do every May 7th.. I will drink One Miller High Life, and play, The Gap Band's YOU DROPPED THE BOMB ON ME, on repeat very, very loud. As I child and as my sister could attest, whenever we heard this song blasting, and the grill going.. We knew our father was on one. Our father, for all the wisdom and love that he had..had two vices he struggled with... Alcohol and Women.
It was in times of my later High School years, that my father and I began to bond not just as father and son, but as men. He would give me deeper insight into his intellect.. into his struggles, his past, his pain, and his pleasures, usually in between gulps of a Quart of Miller. I even felt a sense of frustration just as I typed that last sentence because I remember having to pick him up from work and drive him beause he had lost his license for traffic violations and every monday(because he was off on Tues) he'd say, pull into the store.. Meaning the liquor store that was right across the street from his job.
I hated hearing him say that. Gimme a quart of Miller. Not because of anything, other than I hated to see my father drink. I would glare at him and scowl as he'd take that first long pull on the bottle and he'd just look at me, and in his eyes I could see him telling me, "You don't understand, son." but his lips would tell me, "Shut up and drive, boy." And I would drive. This was back when gas was 99 cent a gallon and I had a Ford Escort, with no power steering. LOL, all my homeys remember the Escort. That's how I ended up with big arms.. Driving that damn car. It was on these drives, through the city of the OB's backroads and alleys, that me and my father would talk and conversate on a variety of topics. Politics, Race relations, How I needed to put more "TRICKS" into my basketball game, my GF at the time, our family...
It was those lessons on those drives, that I'll never forget. Over 15 years later, I still remember most of them like they happened last night. One of those though... I have remembered more vividly than others. It was the night my father could have died. It was a night that would change a part of me forever....
My junior year, 1995. We had just taking a beating from Evansville North in Evansville... and actually it was the only game that I started for OHS that we did not have a chance of winning late in the game. We got destroyed. I was the only one who showed up that night. Of our 48 points, I had 22 of them and 7 assists. I remember because I needed a haircut and I was in the picture of the Evansville paper making a crazy one handed shot. On the ride back, I wasn't caring about losing.. and that was rare for me because anyone who could tell you that played with me or against me knows that one thing I could not stand was losing. I have such a competitive nature that I couldnt stand to not be thought of as #1. However on this night, it was the furthest thing from me. All I wanted to do was get back to Owensboro and see this new girl that I was talking to on the low. It was one of my most selfish displays in life and God in Heaven knows that DAV has had quite a few of those.
When I got home... My father was not there. He was probably at Tigue's(excuse me OB people if I didnt spell it right.) the local bar where the blacks of Owensboro hung out. My father was such a cool guy, many cats respected him and quite a few feared him because my father had a MAJOR temper and could go from chillin smoking a Kool Filter king and making a joke, to raging nuclear in 2 seconds.
When I got home... My father was not there. He was probably at Tigue's(excuse me OB people if I didnt spell it right.) the local bar where the blacks of Owensboro hung out. My father was such a cool guy, many cats respected him and quite a few feared him because my father had a MAJOR temper and could go from chillin smoking a Kool Filter king and making a joke, to raging nuclear in 2 seconds.
He'd argue about basketball, sexual conquests, who was the coldest guy back in the day, his basketball career, and probably most notably in my adolescent years.. ME.
There were a lot of things you could say to my father. He was cool. Calm, collected. Something that I developed as I grew and improved on the court. But mention his kids... anything negative about them and Buddy, You better square up or lock and load cuz Daddy Dav was about to give you the business. I'm sure he had countless arguements about me.
"Dav, ya son shoot too much." or "He aint all that, he too small to go big time." "He ain't never gonna win no Mr. Basketball." I know this because I was told this on future drives with my Dad.
Those type of statements didn't bother Dad much because he knew that GOD had the final say in all of them. However, on this night... whoever it was said the WRONG thing at the wrong time.
From what I recall, my dad told me that some guy who he was arguing with said, "Dav, he ain't gonna make it, cuz you ain't make it. You think you was the shit, but you right here with us and he gonna be just like you."
My father told me that this drove him into a rage... and he approached the man with the intent to knock his block off. It was during this time that the dude pulled a blade or told my dad he had a blade and he'd cut him if he tried anything. My father, being the Alpha male that he was... promptly left the bar and drove about 3 miles to our house to retrieve his Revolver and return back to the bar to finish the arguement I suppose.
I remember as he pullled up he almost hit the other car in the driveway and damn near sprinted into the house. I knew something was wrong because he didn't say anything to me. Even under the influence of alcohol, he always spoke. I was sitting on the hood of the new girls car, talking to her... and I didn't want to be embarrassed because of my father's drunkeness. So I told her to hold on and ran into the house to see what was wrong. I found my father in his drawer pulling out his 38 snub nose. All he said was, "This nigga wanna bring a knife, to a gunfight, I'll show him what's up."
I freaked.. Because wasn't a doubt in my mind that my father woulda popped dude like it wasnt nothing. I told him.. Dad, gimme the gun. My dad was 6'2, I'm 5'9. But I wasn't gonna let him leave the house with that gun.. We argued for a minute and he was like, "Captain, ain't no nigga ever gonna talk about yall. I'll die for mine."
I remember that phrase because my sister told me that some guy who wanted to see her socially would drive up and down our street and my father, who I guess did not approve, would go outside and simply remind whoever it was that wanted Rosalyn of this.
I remember that phrase because my sister told me that some guy who wanted to see her socially would drive up and down our street and my father, who I guess did not approve, would go outside and simply remind whoever it was that wanted Rosalyn of this.
I looked at him and said, Dad, I don't care what anybody says... We know it's not true. Who cares. They are jealous. They are the people you told me to use as my fuel to be the best. Why are you letting them get to you? You always tell me on the court, that I am in control of my situation. Nobody can get me out of my zone unless I allow them to.( Things like this is why I'm so big on not making excuses for your situations and blaming them on other people.) I promise Dad, it's not that serious to take a gun. Please give it to me. After about another minute of hearing him rant and rave he laid down on his bed and gave me the gun. I went and took it and hid it in my room.
Thinking that this night was over...and that he was on the way to passing out, I felt accomplished. Crisis solved. I went back out to the car to talk to the girl who was calmly still waiting for me.
Thinking that this night was over...and that he was on the way to passing out, I felt accomplished. Crisis solved. I went back out to the car to talk to the girl who was calmly still waiting for me.
I had did this before.. I had to play voice of reason sometimes to the one who taught me about REASON. Was it something that a 17 year old should have to bear??? Probably not, but I handled it because it needed to be. On this night... I forgot one minor thing.... To take the Car Keys to his car with me. I had did it dozens of times out of habit. He'd wake up, look for his keys, and couldnt find them and pitch a fit, but in the end, he'd fall back asleep.
I was in SUCH a rush to get back to that girl that I overlooked something that was a vital mistake. Leaving the Car keys in the basket. If I wasn't being selfish, and self centered and about me, I would have remembered, Like I always had to get the keys. But... I did not. I went back outside to talk to her and she saw that I was shaken a little and was like,"Let's go for a drive and get outta here" I agreed.
I was in SUCH a rush to get back to that girl that I overlooked something that was a vital mistake. Leaving the Car keys in the basket. If I wasn't being selfish, and self centered and about me, I would have remembered, Like I always had to get the keys. But... I did not. I went back outside to talk to her and she saw that I was shaken a little and was like,"Let's go for a drive and get outta here" I agreed.
After spending close to an hour or so with her, I returned home to find that my father's car was missing. I had a HOMER moment where I hit my head and said, "DOH". Brandon you idiot... YOU FORGOT THE F****** KEYS!!!!!
For some reason.. I didn't sweat it. I thought.. He'll be okay. He'll go back, talk some more shit, and then come home like usual. However I woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't home. Owensboro shuts down pretty early, so for him to not be home at 3 AM was shocking to me. I knew something wasn't right.. I could feel it. I started feeling so bad that I didnt get the keys that I started worrying and praying that God got him home safe.
My father, had fallen asleep at the wheel of his car. Drove into a field, and almost totaled his car. I still remember pictures of how that car looked when it was towed to the shop. I remember thinking, there was NO WAY, my father shoulda walked away from that unscathed. It wasn't humanly possible. But he didn't have a mark on him... Not a scratch. He did however, now have a charge for DUI and was arrested and spent the night in jail.
For some reason.. I didn't sweat it. I thought.. He'll be okay. He'll go back, talk some more shit, and then come home like usual. However I woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't home. Owensboro shuts down pretty early, so for him to not be home at 3 AM was shocking to me. I knew something wasn't right.. I could feel it. I started feeling so bad that I didnt get the keys that I started worrying and praying that God got him home safe.
My father, had fallen asleep at the wheel of his car. Drove into a field, and almost totaled his car. I still remember pictures of how that car looked when it was towed to the shop. I remember thinking, there was NO WAY, my father shoulda walked away from that unscathed. It wasn't humanly possible. But he didn't have a mark on him... Not a scratch. He did however, now have a charge for DUI and was arrested and spent the night in jail.
That night haunted me for a few years. I used to have nightmares about it... This is actually the first time telling ANYONE about those dreams. Not even Rosalyn knew about them. The guilt was engraved in my mind and heart. I could have prevented it. What if he would have died that night? What if someone else would have died? Why, when I had the ball with 2 seconds left did I miss a simple routine layup? All I know is that I'm thankful that God spared him that night. SEVEN. Such a special # in the relationship between me and my father.
He was born on the 7th. The perfect # of God. I was born on a 6. The number of man. On that night, I showed just how falliable a man is. My father did not die that night. He would leave this Earth, 7 years after.
I posted the link to a video. It's one I've posted a few times before.... It's my favorite Gospel song, Tonex's Make Me Over Again done with the Mime.
You don't have to watch the entire video, but if you can, watch from about the 5:20 (Five Minute 20 second) mark of the video until about 7 minutes. If not. You won't understand this next part.
If you can watch.. Click now and fast forward to the above number.
If you've have watched... I'll continue. There is a part in this... Where Tonex is singing and he says, "I'm ready Lord.. I'm Ready Lord... Forgive Me.. Forgive Me" When I hear that part.. No matter what I'm doing, what I'm thinking, what I'm talking about.. I'm instantly in tears. Doesn't matter. A few weeks ago I was getting ready for church and I was playing this song.. This video actually. And I noticed the scene that takes place when the "FORGIVE ME" line is sung.
The reason I asked you to start bout 5:20 is because of the setup. The "Take it outta me... Take it outta me" is a prayer that my father used to always pray when it came to his drinking. That part of the video describes his situation during that battle, perfectly. I remember that Sunday morning I was balling and I watched that segment I listed for over 45 minutes... Just over and over and over and over... It was like God was saying, "Why haven't you seen it?" And I'm thinking I've seen this video dozens of times.. what am I missing? So I watched again, and when I heard Tonex say... "FORGIVE ME... FORGIVE ME" It was like a weight being lifted off me. I quickly played it again and watched the scene how they acted it out.
A few seconds before 6:20 which is where he says Forgive me is played, about 6:15... If you watch the guy in the robe.. which I'm taking to be Christ.. I could be wrong.. but that is how i'm interpreting it... But watch.. After he cleaned him up and made him whole again... Watch how he puts his hands in his pockets and slowly strolls away? Watch it once.. Watch it twice... That's exactly how Christ is. When we aren't right.. and aren't whole.. He'll restore us adn then go on HIS way.. Because He doesn't force you to do anything you don't want to do... His sheep, know His voice. So they follow. When Tonex sings Forgive Me... The reason I'm in tears is because I feel that annointing in that moment. That is the moment where I connect with God, Spirit to Spirit. It's like a perfect moment.
A few seconds before 6:20 which is where he says Forgive me is played, about 6:15... If you watch the guy in the robe.. which I'm taking to be Christ.. I could be wrong.. but that is how i'm interpreting it... But watch.. After he cleaned him up and made him whole again... Watch how he puts his hands in his pockets and slowly strolls away? Watch it once.. Watch it twice... That's exactly how Christ is. When we aren't right.. and aren't whole.. He'll restore us adn then go on HIS way.. Because He doesn't force you to do anything you don't want to do... His sheep, know His voice. So they follow. When Tonex sings Forgive Me... The reason I'm in tears is because I feel that annointing in that moment. That is the moment where I connect with God, Spirit to Spirit. It's like a perfect moment.
The thing to notice is watch how he turns around... What does he do? He immediately outstretches His hands to welcome him back into his grace. I sat here at my computer on that Sunday and marveled once again at God. How something so simple could speak with such a profound voice. Two words... Forgive Me.
It easy to ask for forgiveness when we wrong someone... When we screw up. Where often we struggle and I know that I do is when it comes to forgiving Ourselves.... I had never forgiven myself for that night. Even after his death I carried that around because from that moment, our lives had such a dramatic shift. It was such a stressful situation in our household... It nearly broke us. Not that incident, but because that incident brought so many underlying situations to the surface.
I struggled to forgive myself because I watched my father struggle to forgive himself. That was pain that I hated to see. It's like when I look frustrated and angry.. how Jax comes up to me and asks for a hug or touches my face and says, "Love you, Daddy." In my heart, there was nothing I could do or say to bring him out of it.
I had always thought on that night that I shoulda saved Dad from that. I shoulda had his back. We were home team. For all he did for me, I felt so much, that I had let him down. It was just once... just one time.. I had never forgot the keys before... Why God, did I forget them that time?
For some time, I thought that the reason my college career struggled was because of that night.. That I was being tested. Could I be consistent? Faithful? Over little things, so that I may be blessed with the big things. I know now that in those moments of mental weakness, it was just the enemy taking shots at me while I was down.
As God forgives us... we have to learn to be better at forgiving ourselves. That guilt, those burdens, can eat away at our souls. My father loved to praise me in interviews... he beamed when he spoke of me.. my accomplishments, my academic success.. and as a son, I was glad that I could honor him and his name in a way that made him proud.
I still hear him from time to time... although now, his voice sounds more like my own. I knew, once I heard Tonex sing that line, that God was telling me to let that go... To forgive myself... Not just for that night... but for all things that I hold on to that I don't have to. For everyone who has taken the time to read this... If you are holding onto something that happened to you or something you did, but you can't fix it.. and you hold on to it because it's the only thing you can control... Release it. One does not have to prove their ability to be valiant by being in self inflicted bondage.
Two words... Two words that I've said time and time again throughout my 31 years to many different people.
Sometimes, God gets you over BIG THINGS, with a small gesture.
To you, Dad... I thank you for every sunny day and every rainy night that your wisdom got me through. I pray that I have honored you as a son and that I live up to the promise you told me to make you... To take our name further and lead the evolution of who we are. I promised you I'd do my best to do that... and I will.
As I end this.. as with the title of this blog, I say the same to you, for the times I didn't live up to my potential... FORGIVE ME.... Oh yeah.. my father beat his battle with alcohol and was alcohol free for the last 6 years of his life.
This is the Middle Finger, who today, is just someone's son... With tears on his face.
No comments:
Post a Comment