The world of songwriting is a challenging, competitive vocation to break into. I just need ONE song to to make its breakaway. Then the people in the biz will be calling me for songs. People often ask me how I keep going with my musical aspirations. I have received plenty of “kind” rejections along the way. Some people have told me to give up. Ummmm … “No.” There are several reasons for me to keep going.
I was reminded of one of them just last night. I got home from work only to find two gifts from my son, Kevin. Kevin will be returning to college at Bemidji State in just one week. He left a note, saying that it will be hard for him to leave, and also, how proud he is of me. One of the gifts was a Minnesota Wild sign that says “Fight to the End … 2013 Playoffs.” We are both BIG Minnesota Wild fans.
I couldn’t help but think that this was a symbolic message for me. I still think that 2013 will be our year! When I say “our year,” I’m referring to my kids, myself, my angels in Heaven, my angels on earth, and all of my friends and family members who have given me so much love and support. You have all made me smile … and you’ve all helped me to keep moving forward in the most positive way that I know how.
My other gift was a 1948 Saint Paul Saints T-Shirt. This is undoubtedly the most thoughtful gift I have ever received from Kevin.
My Dad sadly passed away when I was just 29 years old. Back then, as I was putting together picture boards for our Dad’s wake, I came across his scrapbook (which he never shared with us). We always knew that our Dad had a contract to play with the original Saint Paul Saints Minor League Baseball team. We also knew that he couldn’t continue on with his baseball career because of an injured leg, but we didn’t know just how painful this was for him. We did know that our Dad lived and breathed “baseball.” I can still see our Dad, sitting on our back porch with his transistor radio held up to his ear, listening to the Minnesota Twins games … with a can of Hamms Beer in his right hand. He even gave me a sip or two of his beer … and to this day, I still order Hamms Beer from the bartender if available.
Unfortunately, our Dad’s baseball career was interrupted by Pearl Harbor. He was stationed in Guadalcanal … and injured his leg while defending our Country. He had to have a series of operations on his leg in Australia. He lied flat on his back at Veterans’ Hospital for 18 long months.
Once released from the hospital, our Dad made a plea to the Saints’ managers, begging them to allow him to go to Spring Training with The Saints. The managers gave him that chance. Our Dad went to Spring Training … and he made it all the way … until the final cut. An article in the paper read “Gibbons, an outfield candidate and left-handed hitter, amazed Manager Ray Blades with his power at the plate and hustling spirit. An injured leg, which caused his discharge from the Marines, was the reason given by the Saints for releasing him. Blades feared that baseball might aggravate the injury.” I wept for days and days after reading our Dad’s scrapbook. It still makes me sad to this day …
Our Dad loved his seven kids very much … and always encouraged us to go after our dreams. Years ago, I had the opportunity to play The National Anthem at one of the Saint Paul Saints games. I told them that my Dad had a contract to play with the original Saints team and asked them if they could do a tribute to him. Of course, they were all over it. On game night, I stepped up to home plate to play The National Anthem … and the announcer shouted out “Eddie Gibbons is no longer with us, but we are sure he is with us in spirit. They let up some balloons … and I then played our Country’s National Anthem on my sax. I played with love and I played from my heart … and my passionate, meaningful notes came out of the bell of my sax and filled the entire ballpark … I felt very proud.
The crowd responded favorably … and then it was game time! I got back to my seat. My Mom and siblings were all there. It started to rain a little bit. I then said to my brother “Oh well … Maybe Dad will bring out a rainbow for us.” Minutes later, the most beautiful double rainbow extended across the entire ballpark … and it lingered for a good 20 minutes. The rain subsided. The announcers hardly talked about the game. They kept commenting on the beautiful evening … and the beautiful rainbow that was amongst us. You see … Our Dad’s biggest passions in life were his love for his family … his love for his Country … his love of baseball … and his love of music. All four components were there … along with our Dad … another God wink for us.
Our Dad attended St. Thomas College and worked full-time at 3M. He graduated from college when our Mom and Dad had their 5th child. So far, this blog is about our Dad … but major props go out to our Mom for holding down the fort as a stay-at-home Mom while our Dad worked hard to become a teacher — a teacher who was loved by many, many students … a teacher who has made a difference. My next blog will most likely be about our Mom … Stay tuned for another beautiful story …
My Mom and Dad were always very proud of my passion for music … and always told me that I had the gift of music to share. I wholeheartedly believe this … They are both watching over me and are cheering me on from up above … My kids are very proud of me … and are waiting patiently with support and pride for me to catch a bit of a break. I don’t want my kids to read my scrapbook someday … about how I almost made it …
Thanks for reading this … I want to thank all of your for your support …
With much love and gratitude,
Rose Duffy