In Memoriam for Stanley Dale Squire

On Tuesday evening, January 19, 2021, my father, my light, my hero passed away. Stanley Dale Squire. When people said he should give up, he continued to fight and give and laugh. Dad's kindness extended to countless friends and family. He helped them and they helped him. His students called him 'Dad' and they showed their appreciation by continuing to visit and encourage him later on in life. Dad loved reading, writing, listening to Bob Marley and driving while a book- on-tape played. As a child I sat through many long car rides listening to "The Great Gatsby" or Saul Bellow's "Herzog" or "The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire" as Dad chewed on a mint toothpick. He taught me so much. We will always love him and miss him.  Thank you, Dad. Thank you for the light. 

My father taught me and my sister to always pursue the truth, take time to think for ourselves, and to go our own way. He learned this lesson himself at a young age. My grandfather was a foreman at a kosher food factory in Miami. That's why my father grew up eating matzo ball soup, challah, kugel, potato latkes, corned beef, rugelach, and the whole thing. That's what my grandfather would bring home  and that's why I grew up eating the all of that. Anyway, my grandfather got my dad a summer job at the kosher factory and he quickly ran into trouble with the owners. The problem was during lunch...he would read. And not a newspaper. He would read a book! Novels, biographies, science book. Apparently if you're a factory worker who reads you are highly suspicious. Maybe you'll try to organize a union...maybe you'll start a revolution. The owners repeatedly asked why he wasn't joking and horsing around during lunch...didn't he want to join in on the fun? My Dad told me that was the first time he realized 'the threat' of education. It worried people. To some ppl, a black person with a book was like a black person with a gun. Troublemaker and up to no good. 

Well I didn't believe my Dad. Besides, if it was true that was in the past. People aren't like that any more. My Dad shrugged his shoulders like 'okay, you'll see.'  I decided to test it out. One day, at a summer job (and in mixed company) I just brought in a book and started reading during my break. A white manager came up to me and asked if I was all right? Yes. I smiled and went back to my book. Then he followed up...what are you reading? I told him. It wasn't a romance novel or James Bond (which I loved to read btw). It happened to be actual piece of literature with IDEAS!! AAAHHH ideas!! The manager continued to eye me suspiciously for the rest of the day. He frowned, furrowed his brow. This went on for a few days and then I switched it up. I didn't bring a book in one day and I joined in the horseplay. There was a sigh of relief. I wasn't a troublemaker any more. 

I went back to dad. " Okay. You were right.' The book test...similar to the old days when a woman would try to read in public and get interrupted by men. If your employer is not comfortable with you reading, they're not comfortable with you thinking. If they're not comfortable with you thinking...they don't want you to grow. If they have a problem with you being contemplative, complex, serious, introspective...quit that job. You do not need to be around ppl like that...white or black.

On the evening of his passing we turned off the tv. I put on some Bob Marley and Ray Charles music on my iPad and we stood around my Dad's bed. It was me and my mom. We held his hand and head. Grateful to be at home in his own bed, we did to not have to listen to beeping monitors and ppl rushing around. When I was a kid I didn't understand what a luxury it was to pass away at home. My grandfathers on both sides of my family transitioned in their sleep when I was very young so as a child I just thought that was the way most ppl left this reality. I soon found out they were the exception to the rule. As I grew up I started seeing death as this cold, antiseptic, industrial fluorescent light series of tests where people poked and prodded you with tubes and needles until the body just gave out.