Usually,
when you celebrate VETERANS Day, you
generally think of commemorating those fallen soldiers who have given
their lives in service to their country - the USA. I salute my Dad and my Uncle who are now ANCESTOR ANGELS, and WHO
HAVE GONE BEFORE US AND TRIED TO MAKE A WAY FOR US BY RAISING,
NURTURING, EDUCATING, DEFENDING AND LOVING US TO LIFE.
In
keeping with the tradition of honoring those who served in the
Military, I am honoring my father, Warner Hale DULAN, Sr., who served in
WWII
He
was stationed in Camp Seibert Army Base in Gasden, Alabama; served as a
Military Policeman (MP), and probably experienced more racism in his
young life there, than he ever did growing up in Oklahoma. In fact, his
experiences there shaped his militancy for the rest of his life. He
had enlisted to save the country that rejected him - and got a full dose
of racism during the time he was there. Of course, he was not the only
one; and it was not something he discussed with us until I was well
into my teens and participating in the Sit-ins, and Civil Rights
activities in Oklahoma City, under the mentorship and leadership of Ms.
Clara Luper.
I
remember him clearly saying to me, during one of our many epochmaking
debates, when he was trying to get me to stop participating in the
sit-ins - "You don't want to integrate with the kind of people these
people are!!" I was 17 years old. Tinker Air Force Base had threatened
to fire him because was an "agitator." He asked (not told) me to stop
because he could lose his position at Tinker. He had been there for 20+
years at the time. I looked at him like he had to be kidding, and
responded, somewhat arrogantly, that I was not going to stop - so he
probably should get a different job - why would he want to work for a
company that did not respect his rights?
I
half expected him to smack me or reprimand me, or ground me or withhold
my allowance. Instead, I saw this look of pride come across my Dad's
face - he couldn't hide it. I realized he was testing me to see how
committed I was to the movement. I later found out from my Mom that he
had pretty much informed the higher ups at Tinker that it would be my
own decision to stop, but he wouldn't force me to do so. My Dad was a
silent militant. We would go walking sometimes in those racist parts of
OKC, where they had the signs in the window that said "We reserve the
right to refuse service to anyone we choose." Daddy would walk into the
shop, stand there, not saying a word, waiting for one of the caucasoids
to refuse him service - no one ever did.
As
you can see, my Dad was a FINE BLACK MAN - he set high standards for
our family, because high standards were set by his Dad, my grandfather,
Silas S. DULAN, who served in WWI. They all served their country, in a
highly racist, segregated army. Despite that, they all had high
standards, ethics and definiteness of purpose
My Dad, Warner Hale DULAN, Sr. WWII Veteran
In addition to my Dad is his younger brother, and my favorite Uncle -
Adolph A. DULAN, who served in the Korean War, following in the
footsteps of his older Brother. My Uncle was also a FINE BLACK MAN, as
you can clearly see. He took advantage of his GI Bill, went to
college, got his degree in Social Work, but decided that it was time to
apply what he learned to economic development and entreprenurial
endeavors. He tried to teach other Black Vets to do the same thing. He started a program teaching Black Men entreprenurial skills, in Los Angeles. He had a very down to earth, Oklahoma Old Boy method that worked, and eventually led him to establish the Millionaire Men's Club, where he and his fellow Black Millionaires met and strategized how to share their knowledge and contribute to society.
My favorite Uncle made his transition 4 years ago leaving a legacy of
accomplishments from establishing businesses in LA, through starting
organizations that empowered Black men and women to excel.
My Uncle Adolf A. DULAN served in the Korean War
Blessings to all the brave, loving Brothers and Sisters who dedicated their lives to ours!!!
Today is Saturday, August 11, 2018. Today would have been my dad, Warner H. Dulan, Sr.'s 97 Birthday. I wrote the following post in tribute to him 3 years ago, in 2015. Last year, my Uncle Adolf Dulan, Dad's baby brother, made his transition to the realm of Ancestor/Angels, meaning that now all of his family - Grandmom Zady, Grandaddy Silas, Aunt Zethel, Ailene, Adolf and He are all there together looking over me, my sister Brenda, my Brothers Syl and Warner, Jr., as we move forward on this plane of action. I'm reposting it today in honor of his birthday Happy
Birthday Daddy. I love you, miss you, and am still learning so much
from all the wisdom you tried to share with me when I was a rambunctious
teenager, and later as a woman and a mom. Today,
August 11, 2015, would have been my dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr.'s 94th
Birthday, had he lived. As I mentioned in my salutes to my handsome
Grandson, Hugh V, and my handsome Son, Rais, Sun Kings, or Leos, are
very special people. And to me, my Dad was the number one Leo in my
life.
My sister, BRENDA DULAN MOORE, did this portrait of my Mom and Dad - Warner and
Ruby Dulan (left) at a Black Country Club in Oklahoma City, Black in the
day - it was taken from an actual photo that sits on our mantel piece
at home; the photo was taken in 1943 - before I was born. They were hanging tough!
From my Dad I learned Pride, Discipline,
Compassion, Love and Pride. Did I say pride twice? Well I meant to,
because Leos have a double dose of it! As if Aries weren't already the
biggest egos on the planet -we are born with big egos, and, if nurtured
correctly, we learn how to control it so that we're not the most
obnoxious characters on the planet. That's not the kind
of pride I'm talking about. I'm talking about never appearing in
public looking less than your best; never allowing your enemy to see you
weakness - whatever that may be; always doing your homework ahead of
the game so you're prepared for whatever you're called to do (for me it
was acting and reciting when - from Kindergarten through high school, I
was a Thespian); and never ever ever beg anybody for anything - unless,
of course, it was life and death - the enemy can smell vulnerability;
always look a person in the eye when you're talking with them; and if
every other word out your mouth is a 4-letter word, or profanity, it
shows your ignorance and you've already lost; and louder doesn't mean
you're smarter or better, it means that you're trying to draw attention
to yourself. That's the kind of pride my Dad taught
me. And I'm happy to say that it was the kind of pride most of my
peers in Oklahoma City were also taught coming up. Somewhere between the
Code of the West and Southern Gentility on the Black side. After
his biggest three focuses - loving Ruby Love (my Mom), putting food on
the table, and keeping the roof over our heads, his biggest concern was
our education and well being. And he worked very hard at it. Daddy had
a full time job and several part time jobs - or odd jobs - as he called
them. He wasn't a "church going man," but he did
believe in God. He just didn't believe in the ministers. One of them
hit on my mom, who used to sing in the choir, and came to within an inch
of getting a major beatdown as a result. Once in a while, when he
felt the need, he would walk up the hill, and sit in the balcony of St.
John The Baptist Church. I'd go with him. He'd be dressed to the max,
crease in his pants, shoes shined up, suit impeccably done, and one of
his great Fedoras. I loved walking with my dad, all dressed up, and all
the church ladies trying to figure out if he was or wasn't married. For
the most part, though, Sundays were sacred to him - that was the day he
got all of us kids (4 of us) out of the house for the day to Sunday
School, Church, BYPU, and whatever else, so he could have exclusive time
with Mom, Ruby Love - the love of his life.
My Dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr., Born August 11, 1921
My dad was an expert
dominoes player - a favorite game among the Dulan family men -
something they would play for eons while the women, including yours
truly when I got older, were preparing the food in the kitchen, or for
the cook out; or after Memorial Day of cleaning off the graves. He was
also an excellent card player. He and mom used to have card parties at
the house and bring their friends over for a night of tournaments. He
loved boxing, and I got my love of boxing from him. Dad tried his hand
at amateur boxing when he was in the service - but I think that Leo
pride of his didn't like the idea of messing up his handsome good looks -
although he never said so. I always look at him and think of Muhammad
Ali when he said "I'm still pretty!" My Dad was a FINE
BLACK MAN - physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. He
could have been a great leading man in the movies, had he been born in a
different era. He was so handsome he turned heads where ever he went.
Of course, having the most beautiful woman in the world beside him, kept
the temptation to stray down. Daddy was always
teaching us things - from the smallest item - like earth worms, to major
mechanical and technological developments - he was the head of Tool
Crib Maintenance at Tinker Air Force Base for twenty of the forty-five
years he worked for them. He would pick up a cotter pin and explain how
that little device could make or break an entire mechanical system; or
the value of the earth worm to the ecosystem - i.e., why we needed them
in our garden in the back yard (I hated worms - so Daddy was trying to
speak up for their value - I still don't like worms, but I understand
their necessity). He taught me how to shoot - and I would go hunting
with him, Grandaddy, uncle Adolf and other relatives. His favorite
thing to do would be to take us for long drives around Oklahoma and
give us the history of certain areas as far as Black and Indians were
concerned. On our coffee table at home were the
requisite Black magazines: Ebony, Jet, Sepia, Tan, Crisis, Negro
History, Journal of Negro Education - Daddy's subscriptions; along side
Cosmopolitan, Look, Life, McCalls, Good Housekeeping, House Beautiful,
Seventeen, Mademoiselle, etc - Mom's subscriptions. And we read them
all. Daddy was always taking discarded items and
recycling or repurposing them. He was always building and tinkering on
something - I helped him build a dog house when I was 9. I had the job
of painting it. i think I got more paint on me than on the dog house. My
dad could also out dress any man in GQ!! He had shoe trees, the
requisite silk ties, the three piece suits, spit shine shoes, and the
right hats to go with his sartorial selections. When he and Mom would
step out, look out!!! They would stop the show - spot light on Ruby and
Warner Dulan. It was also for this reason that we could not go out into
the streets looking like bums - we had to take time to take pride - the
Leo way. It was Daddy who taught me how to wear hats when I was a kid -
I've been wearing them ever since. I think one of
the things I loved my Daddy so much for were our debates, which started
when I was about 10 or 11, and had become a part of the NAACP Youth
Council, and continued until he passed, at the age of 66 from multiple
myeloid cancer (bone marrow cancer) in 1987. He would take the opposite
tack of the issue and ask questions or make statements in a way that
would really get me riled up. I had learned to refute certain
statements through training at the Youth Council under Clara Luper, our
mentor. But he would take it and make it personal, as if I didn't know
what I was doing. That would then set us off on a harangue that could
last an hour or more. And I'd huffy, annoyed, bent out of shape; and he
would just continue to calmly throw barbs at me and poke holes in my
argument. The more emotional I became, the calmer he became. But, even
if I got shrill - which I sometimes did - no one else in the family
ever dared step into that conversation between Daddy and me. Mother
told me years later how proud he was that I knew all the stuff I knew. When
I was 17 Tinker Air Force Base had threatened to fire Dad if I didn't
quit participating in the Sit-ins and demonstrations. He came and told
me what they said, and asked me what I wanted to do. I responded that I
couldn't step down, because what I was doing was for our people - so it
might be good if he started looking for another job. He got so
tickled, and told me he had already informed them that he couldn't force
me to quit. He continued as an employee for another 20+ years until
his retirement. I can hear Dad saying to me "Don't be
no fool!" when I was about to get into something that might result in a
behind whipping on my part; or "There's nothing worse than an educated
fool," when I thought I knew everything and didn't have to listen to
anybody else's opinions or ideas. My friends knew and
loved my Dad for who he was and what he stood for - most of their
parents and my father worked together at Tinker, or at the many oil
wells throughout the city. Those men shared their intelligence, not
their ignorance, with each other. They were focused on progress, not
defeat. If one made it, they would pull the other through. They
carpooled to work and would catch each other up on houses, deals, cars,
etc.
Daddy at age 65 - FINE BLACK MAN!! August 11, 2015 would have been his 94th Birthday.
One of my fondest memories
was of Daddy's birthday celebrations. When we were little, Brenda (my
sister) and I would get up with Mom, sneak into the kitchen and make his
favorite breakfast, and then surprise him by serving it to him in bed.
And after he had eaten, we'd give him his presents - generally
something we had made in Vacation Bible School. He would always act
surprised and pleased at the stuff we'd give him. When I was 12, I
took some leather strips from a shoe repair place - about 1/2" wide by
3' long, and wove him a seat cushion for his car. He used it til the
day he made his transition. Mother kept it for quite some time after. I
have no idea what happened to it since then, but he was so amazed that I
had come up with the concept, he talked about that forever. This
past June, I attended an International Father's Convention at the
DoubleTree Hotel in Philadelphia. I was listening to presenter after
presenter talking about how special fathers are; how important they are
in the life of a child; how it's time to reinstate fathers. And I have
to admit that I was so in agreement with them. I was so blessed to have
had my mom and my dad in my life - and they were wonderful people. When
someone has to tell you that fathers are assets, something is indeed
very wrong with your culture and community. When fathers stop being
assets it is the beginning of the dissolution of you as a people. My
dad was/is a treasure in our family - as are all the dads in the Dulan
Clan - my uncle Adolf, my cousins Jeff and Gregory, my handsome son Rais
Wilson, my handsome son-in-law Hugh IV, my brother Sylvester, his son
Silas, and so on - So I'm saying Thanks
Daddy for being the wonderful dad and Sun King that you were. Your
birthday is treasured in our family, and always will be, for me. Lovingly, Your Number One Kid Gloria Jeanne
Happy 95th Birthday to my Dad Warner H. Dulan, Sr.
(this is a revised update of the birthday salute I did for Daddy in 2015)
Happy Birthday Daddy. I love you, miss you, and am still learning so much from all the wisdom you tried to share with me when I was a rambunctious teenager, and later as a woman and a mom.
Today, August 11, 2016, would have been my dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr.'s 95th Birthday, had he lived. As I mentioned in my salutes to my handsome Grandson, Hugh V, and my handsome Son, Rais, Sun Kings, or Leos, are very special people. And to me, my Dad was, and still is, the number one Leo in my life.
My sister, BRENDA DULAN MOORE, did this portrait of my Mom and Dad - Warner and Ruby Dulan (left) at a Black Country Club in Oklahoma City, Black in the day - it was taken from an actual photo that sits on our mantel piece at home; the photo was taken in 1943, before I was born. They were hanging tough! Check out the Suit!
From my Dad I learned Pride, Discipline, Compassion, Independence, Love and Pride. Did I say pride twice? Well I meant to, because Leos have a double dose of it! As if Aries weren't already the biggest egos on the planet - we come pre-packaged with big egos - and, if nurtured correctly, we learn how to control it so that we're not the most obnoxious characters on the planet.
That's not the kind of pride I'm talking about. I'm talking about never appearing in public looking less than your best; never allowing your enemy to see your weakness - whatever that may be; always doing your homework ahead of the game so you're prepared for whatever you're called to do (for me it was acting and reciting when - from Kindergarten through high school - I was a Thespian); and never ever ever beg anybody for anything - unless, of course, it was life and death - the enemy can smell vulnerability; always look a person in the eye when you're talking with them; and if every other word out your mouth is a 4-letter word, or profanity, it shows your ignorance and you've already lost; and louder doesn't mean you're smarter or better, it really means that you're insecure or trying to draw attention to yourself.
That's the kind of pride my Dad taught me. And I'm happy to say that it was the kind of pride most of my peers in Oklahoma City were also taught coming up. Somewhere between the Code of the West and Southern Gentility on the Black side. After his biggest three focuses - loving Ruby Love (my Mom), putting food on the table, and keeping the roof over our heads, his biggest concern was our education and well being. And he worked very hard at it. Daddy had a full time job and several part time jobs - or odd jobs, as he called them. Some of them that were "embarrassing" to us as kids, have now become popular - hauling trash and taking them to the recycling plant (yes they had those in Oklahoma long before they become popular nationally), including paper, soda bottles, cans, etc., were used to bridge the gap between the underpaid salary he received from Tinker AFB. Many's a time my sister and I had to take our Red Flyer Wagon and pick up soda bottles left around so he could take them to the 7UP and CocaCola Bottling Plants - for two cents a bottle, you could rack up quite a bit in those days.
He wasn't a "church going man," but he did believe in God. He just didn't believe in the ministers. One of them hit on my mom, who used to sing in the choir, and came to within an inch of getting a major beatdown as a result. Once in a while, when he felt the need, he would walk up the hill, and sit in the balcony of St. John The Baptist Church. I'd go with him. He'd be dressed to the max, crease in his pants, shoes shined up, suit impeccably done, and one of his great Fedoras. I loved walking with my dad, all dressed up, and all the church ladies trying to figure out if he was or wasn't married.
For the most part, though, Sundays were sacred to him - that was the day he got all of us kids (4 of us) out of the house for the day to Sunday School, Church, BYPU, and whatever else, so he could have exclusive time with Mom, Ruby Love - the love of his life.
My Dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr., Born August 11, 1921 A Fine Black Man
My dad was an expert dominoes player - a favorite game among the Dulan family men - something they would play for eons while the women, including yours truly when I got older, were preparing the food in the kitchen, or for the cook out; or after Memorial Day of cleaning off the graves. He was also an excellent card player. He and mom used to have Bid Whist parties at the house and bring their friends over for a night of tournaments.
He loved boxing, and I got my love of boxing from him. Dad tried his hand at amateur boxing when he was in the service - but I think that Leo pride of his didn't like the idea of messing up his handsome good looks - although he never said so. I always look at him and think of Muhammad Ali when he said "I'm still pretty!" When Ali made his transition, I thought about Daddy, and wondered whether those two would get a chance to sit and talk.
My Dad was a FINE BLACK MAN - physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. He could have been a great leading man in the movies, had he been born in a different era. He was so handsome he turned heads where ever he went. Of course, having the most beautiful woman in the world beside him, kept the temptation to stray down.
Daddy was always teaching us things - from the smallest item - like earth worms, to major mechanical and technological developments - he was the head of Tool Crib Maintenance at Tinker Air Force Base for twenty of the forty-seven years he worked for them. He would pick up a cotter pin and explain how that little device could make or break an entire mechanical system; or the value of the earth worm to the ecosystem - i.e., why we needed them in our garden in the back yard (I hated worms - so Daddy was trying to speak up for their value - I still don't like worms, but I understand their necessity). He taught me how to shoot - and I would go hunting with him, Grandaddy, uncle Adolf and other relatives. His favorite thing to do would be to take us for long drives around Oklahoma and give us the history of certain areas as far as Black and Indians were concerned.
Growing up, I remember that our coffee table at home had the requisite Black magazines: Ebony, Jet, Sepia, Tan, Crisis, Negro History, Journal of Negro Education - Daddy's subscriptions; along side Cosmopolitan, Look, Life, McCalls, Good Housekeeping, House Beautiful, Seventeen, Mademoiselle, etc - Mom's subscriptions. And we read them all.
Daddy was always taking discarded items and recycling or repurposing them. He was always building and tinkering on something - I helped him build a dog house when I was 9. I had the job of painting it. i think I got more paint on me than on the dog house.
My dad could also out dress any man in GQ!! He had shoe trees, the requisite silk ties, the three piece suits, spit shine shoes, and the right hats to go with his sartorial selections. When he and Mom would step out, look out!!! They would stop the show - spot light on Ruby and Warner Dulan. It was also for this reason that we could not go out into the streets looking like bums - we had to take time to take pride - the Leo way. It was Daddy who taught me how to wear hats when I was a kid - I've been wearing them ever since. Of course, the cutting out of the crowns so my Afro would show was my idea, but making it look stylish came from him and Mom.
I think one of the things I loved my Daddy so much for were our debates, which started when I was about 10 or 11, and had become a part of the NAACP Youth Council, and continued until he passed, at the age of 66 from multiple myeloid cancer (bone marrow cancer) in 1987. He would take the opposite tack of the issue and ask questions or make statements in a way that would really get me riled up. I had learned to refute certain statements through training at the Youth Council under Clara Luper, our mentor. But he would take it and make it personal, as if I didn't know what I was doing. That would then set us off on a harangue that could last an hour or more. And if I got huffy, annoyed, bent out of shape, he would just continue to calmly throw barbs at me and poke holes in my argument. The more emotional I became, the calmer he became. But, even if I got shrill - which I sometimes did - no one else in the family ever dared step into that conversation between Daddy and me.
Mother told me years later how proud he was that I knew all the stuff I knew. I tried to learn to be calm under fire, and not become emotional when making a point that has to do with Black people, but so far the only other people I know who do it better than Daddy are Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton.
When I was 17, and fully involved in Civil Rights in Oklahoma City, Tinker Air Force Base threatened to fire Dad if I didn't quit participating in the Sit-ins and demonstrations. He came and told me what they said, and asked me what I wanted to do. I remember saying that he would just have to get fired, then, I wouldn't step down, because what I was doing was for our people - so it might be good if he started looking for another job. He got so tickled, and told me he had already informed them that he couldn't force me to quit. He continued as an employee for another 20+ years until his retirement.
He would have totally supported Black Lives Matter. I'm kind of glad he's not here to witness the atrocities that are still being leveled against Black people. He probably would have said, "I told you so. These white people are not people you want to ever integrate with" - which is what he told me when I was 10 and first joined the NAACP. Those words come back to me from time to time - especially when an unarmed brother or sister is gunned down; when someone who is uber competent loses a job because he or she is Black.
I can still hear Dad saying to me "Don't be no fool!" when I was about to get into something that might result in a behind whipping on my part; or I was popping off at the mouth during my arrogant adolescent years; or "There's nothing worse than an educated fool," when I thought I knew everything and didn't have to listen to anybody else's opinions or ideas.
My friends knew and loved my Dad for who he was and what he stood for - most of their parents and my father worked together at Tinker, or at the many oil wells throughout the city. Those men shared their intelligence, not their ignorance, with each other. They were focused on progress, not defeat. If one made it, they would pull the other through. They carpooled to work and would catch each other up on houses, deals, cars, etc.
Daddy at age 65 - FINE BLACK MAN!! August 11, 2016 would have been his 95th Birthday.
One of my fondest memories was of Daddy's birthday celebrations. When we were little, Brenda (my sister) and I would get up with Mom, sneak into the kitchen and make his favorite breakfast, and then surprise him by serving it to him in bed. And after he had eaten, we'd give him his presents - generally something we had made in Vacation Bible School. He would always act surprised and pleased at the stuff we'd give him. When I was 12, I took some leather strips from a shoe repair place - about 1/2" wide by 3' long, and wove him a seat cushion for his car. He used it til the day he made his transition. Mother kept it for quite some time after. I have no idea what happened to it since then, but he was so amazed that I had come up with the concept, he talked about that forever.
I am so blessed to have had my mom and my dad in my life - they were wonderful people. My dad was/is a treasure in our family - as are all the dads in the Dulan Clan - my uncle Adolf, my cousins Jeff and Gregory, my handsome son Rais Wilson, my handsome son-in-law Hugh IV, my brother Sylvester, his son Silas, and so on. So I'm saying Thank you, Daddy for being the wonderful dad and Sun King that you were. Your birthday is treasured in our family, and always will be, for me.
Happy Birthday Daddy. I love you, miss you, and am still learning so much from all the wisdom you tried to share with me when I was a rambunctious teenager, and later as a woman and a mom.
Today, August 11, 2015, would have been my dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr.'s 94th Birthday, had he lived. As I mentioned in my salutes to my handsome Grandson, Hugh V, and my handsome Son, Rais, Sun Kings, or Leos, are very special people. And to me, my Dad was the number one Leo in my life.
My sister, BRENDA DULAN MOORE, did this portrait of my Mom and Dad - Warner and
Ruby Dulan (left) at a Black Country Club in Oklahoma City, Black in the
day - it was taken from an actual photo that sits on our mantel piece
at home; the photo was taken in 1943 - before I was born. They were hanging tough!
From my Dad I learned Pride, Discipline, Compassion, Love and Pride. Did I say pride twice? Well I meant to, because Leos have a double dose of it! As if Aries weren't already the biggest egos on the planet -we are born with big egos, and, if nurtured correctly, we learn how to control it so that we're not the most obnoxious characters on the planet.
That's not the kind of pride I'm talking about. I'm talking about never appearing in public looking less than your best; never allowing your enemy to see you weakness - whatever that may be; always doing your homework ahead of the game so you're prepared for whatever you're called to do (for me it was acting and reciting when - from Kindergarten through high school, I was a Thespian); and never ever ever beg anybody for anything - unless, of course, it was life and death - the enemy can smell vulnerability; always look a person in the eye when you're talking with them; and if every other word out your mouth is a 4-letter word, or profanity, it shows your ignorance and you've already lost; and louder doesn't mean you're smarter or better, it means that you're trying to draw attention to yourself.
That's the kind of pride my Dad taught me. And I'm happy to say that it was the kind of pride most of my peers in Oklahoma City were also taught coming up. Somewhere between the Code of the West and Southern Gentility on the Black side.
After his biggest three focuses - loving Ruby Love (my Mom), putting food on the table, and keeping the roof over our heads, his biggest concern was our education and well being. And he worked very hard at it. Daddy had a full time job and several part time jobs - or odd jobs - as he called them.
He wasn't a "church going man," but he did believe in God. He just didn't believe in the ministers. One of them hit on my mom, who used to sing in the choir, and came to within an inch of getting a major beatdown as a result. Once in a while, when he felt the need, he would walk up the hill, and sit in the balcony of St. John The Baptist Church. I'd go with him. He'd be dressed to the max, crease in his pants, shoes shined up, suit impeccably done, and one of his great Fedoras. I loved walking with my dad, all dressed up, and all the church ladies trying to figure out if he was or wasn't married.
For the most part, though, Sundays were sacred to him - that was the day he got all of us kids (4 of us) out of the house for the day to Sunday School, Church, BYPU, and whatever else, so he could have exclusive time with Mom, Ruby Love - the love of his life.
My Dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr., Born August 11, 1921
My dad was an expert dominoes player - a favorite game among the Dulan family men - something they would play for eons while the women, including yours truly when I got older, were preparing the food in the kitchen, or for the cook out; or after Memorial Day of cleaning off the graves. He was also an excellent card player. He and mom used to have card parties at the house and bring their friends over for a night of tournaments.
He loved boxing, and I got my love of boxing from him. Dad tried his hand at amateur boxing when he was in the service - but I think that Leo pride of his didn't like the idea of messing up his handsome good looks - although he never said so. I always look at him and think of Muhammad Ali when he said "I'm still pretty!"
My Dad was a FINE BLACK MAN - physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. He could have been a great leading man in the movies, had he been born in a different era. He was so handsome he turned heads where ever he went. Of course, having the most beautiful woman in the world beside him, kept the temptation to stray down.
Daddy was always teaching us things - from the smallest item - like earth worms, to major mechanical and technological developments - he was the head of Tool Crib Maintenance at Tinker Air Force Base for twenty of the forty-five years he worked for them. He would pick up a cotter pin and explain how that little device could make or break an entire mechanical system; or the value of the earth worm to the ecosystem - i.e., why we needed them in our garden in the back yard (I hated worms - so Daddy was trying to speak up for their value - I still don't like worms, but I understand their necessity). He taught me how to shoot - and I would go hunting with him, Grandaddy, uncle Adolf and other relatives. His favorite thing to do would be to take us for long drives around Oklahoma and give us the history of certain areas as far as Black and Indians were concerned.
On our coffee table at home were the requisite Black magazines: Ebony, Jet, Sepia, Tan, Crisis, Negro History, Journal of Negro Education - Daddy's subscriptions; along side Cosmopolitan, Look, Life, McCalls, Good Housekeeping, House Beautiful, Seventeen, Mademoiselle, etc - Mom's subscriptions. And we read them all.
Daddy was always taking discarded items and recycling or repurposing them. He was always building and tinkering on something - I helped him build a dog house when I was 9. I had the job of painting it. i think I got more paint on me than on the dog house.
My dad could also out dress any man in GQ!! He had shoe trees, the requisite silk ties, the three piece suits, spit shine shoes, and the right hats to go with his sartorial selections. When he and Mom would step out, look out!!! They would stop the show - spot light on Ruby and Warner Dulan. It was also for this reason that we could not go out into the streets looking like bums - we had to take time to take pride - the Leo way. It was Daddy who taught me how to wear hats when I was a kid - I've been wearing them ever since.
I think one of the things I loved my Daddy so much for were our debates, which started when I was about 10 or 11, and had become a part of the NAACP Youth Council, and continued until he passed, at the age of 66 from multiple myeloid cancer (bone marrow cancer) in 1987. He would take the opposite tack of the issue and ask questions or make statements in a way that would really get me riled up. I had learned to refute certain statements through training at the Youth Council under Clara Luper, our mentor. But he would take it and make it personal, as if I didn't know what I was doing. That would then set us off on a harangue that could last an hour or more. And I'd huffy, annoyed, bent out of shape; and he would just continue to calmly throw barbs at me and poke holes in my argument. The more emotional I became, the calmer he became. But, even if I got shrill - which I sometimes did - no one else in the family ever dared step into that conversation between Daddy and me. Mother told me years later how proud he was that I knew all the stuff I knew.
When I was 17 Tinker Air Force Base had threatened to fire Dad if I didn't quit participating in the Sit-ins and demonstrations. He came and told me what they said, and asked me what I wanted to do. I responded that I couldn't step down, because what I was doing was for our people - so it might be good if he started looking for another job. He got so tickled, and told me he had already informed them that he couldn't force me to quit. He continued as an employee for another 20+ years until his retirement.
I can hear Dad saying to me "Don't be no fool!" when I was about to get into something that might result in a behind whipping on my part; or "There's nothing worse than an educated fool," when I thought I knew everything and didn't have to listen to anybody else's opinions or ideas.
My friends knew and loved my Dad for who he was and what he stood for - most of their parents and my father worked together at Tinker, or at the many oil wells throughout the city. Those men shared their intelligence, not their ignorance, with each other. They were focused on progress, not defeat. If one made it, they would pull the other through. They carpooled to work and would catch each other up on houses, deals, cars, etc.
Daddy at age 65 - FINE BLACK MAN!! August 11, 2015 would have been his 94th Birthday.
One of my fondest memories was of Daddy's birthday celebrations. When we were little, Brenda (my sister) and I would get up with Mom, sneak into the kitchen and make his favorite breakfast, and then surprise him by serving it to him in bed. And after he had eaten, we'd give him his presents - generally something we had made in Vacation Bible School. He would always act surprised and pleased at the stuff we'd give him. When I was 12, I took some leather strips from a shoe repair place - about 1/2" wide by 3' long, and wove him a seat cushion for his car. He used it til the day he made his transition. Mother kept it for quite some time after. I have no idea what happened to it since then, but he was so amazed that I had come up with the concept, he talked about that forever.
This past June, I attended an International Father's Convention at the DoubleTree Hotel in Philadelphia. I was listening to presenter after presenter talking about how special fathers are; how important they are in the life of a child; how it's time to reinstate fathers. And I have to admit that I was so in agreement with them. I was so blessed to have had my mom and my dad in my life - and they were wonderful people.
When someone has to tell you that fathers are assets, something is indeed very wrong with your culture and community. When fathers stop being assets it is the beginning of the dissolution of you as a people. My dad was/is a treasure in our family - as are all the dads in the Dulan Clan - my uncle Adolf, my cousins Jeff and Gregory, my handsome son Rais Wilson, my handsome son-in-law Hugh IV, my brother Sylvester, his son Silas, and so on -
So I'm saying Thanks Daddy for being the wonderful dad and Sun King that you were. Your birthday is treasured in our family, and always will be, for me.
By Gloria Dulan-Wilson Well, this is the first Mothers' Day without my mom, Ruby Love Dulan; and I must admit that I have procrastinated in sending out my annual Happy Mothers' Day greetings to all my Sister Moms, Grandmoms, and Mothers-to-be.
Even at my age, I feel somewhat like an orphan - since
both my mom, Ruby Love and dad, Warner Hale Dulan are now part of the
ancestors. But I'm heartened by the fact that they will now be able to
pick up their romance where they left off - before they had us four - Me, Brenda, Warner and Sylvester - to come along and completely turn their lives upside down. We were definitely a hand full. And they hung in with each of us, through thick, thin, good, bad and indifferent!
They were such a beautiful couple- my Mom and Dad - and each probably turned a lot of heads and caused a lot of heart throbs in their own right.
Mom Ruby Love Dulan in 1943 When she met my Dad
Dad Warner Hale Dulan in 1943 when he met my Mom
Mom and Dad at a Black Country Club in Oklahoma City, OK Can you believe she made that gown?
This is a photo of Mother and Dad that I and my sibs
will always cherish - especially since I can recall the days when they
used to step out regularly with their best friends - hitting all the
parties and clubs in Oklahoma City - and yes, we partied hardy in OKC -
long before I came to the East Coast. And, though she denied it, I
can remember that Mom and Dad would leave us with the baby sitter when
it was dark, and wouldn't pick up until dawn the next morning - talking
about hanging out!!! I remember watching my Mom make that evening gown on her old, original Singer Sewing Machine - she even made gloves to match!!!
Looking at these photos brings back so many wonderful memories. I guess I kind of didn't know what to say, or how I would feel at this point. I'm so used to giving my mom a call on Mothers' Day and chatting her up. Sometimes I'd send her a fragrance set with either Elizabeth Taylor's fragrance, bath salts, powder and all the great stuff that goes with it; or some of the other fragrances she loved. So this year, as I walked through Macy's, and past the perfume counters, I suddenly realized that that wasn't going to happen this year - so I quickly made my exit. But these make me smile through the tears. Not to sound morose - I guess it takes a period of adjustment when your mom moves forward to the status of Ancestor Angel - so I'm going to do what I try to tell all my friends to do when someone they love has left this plane of action - remember all the good things and good time we had together - and cherish them.
At the same time, as a mom myself, I've got a beautiful daughter, Kira, and fantastic daughter-in-law, Traci, who are both great moms in their own right. I have a great sister-in-law, Sonya, who is fantastic; I've a great sister Brenda, who is also a mom and a grandmom.
In addition, I have some wonderful friends and neighbors who are awesome moms: so here's much love and respect to Bobbi Humphrey, Brenda Dulan-Moore., Kira Dulan-Harrell, Traci Wilson, Nannette Allen, Tessya Smith-Polk, Latrice M. Walker, Dorothy Pittman-Hughes, Judy Ward & Judy Peeples, Una Clarke, Donna Cerio, Carol Black, Mary Dulan, Sonya Dulan, Brenda Ross-Dulan, Brandice Martin, Kita Williams, Michelle Obama, Annie Gray, Carlyn Gray, Iman Hameem, Annette Robinson, Barbara Killens Rivera, Lillian Smith, Brandi Dulan, LaDawn Deniece, Norma Harrell (partner mom), Barbara, Pat, Jackie and Lisa Potts - and so many more Sister/Moms out there for being the blessings that you are. They say a mother's love is like no other, and I can attest to that - we are loved by our moms, and in turn we love our children; we are nurtured by them and in turn nurture ours. Our mothers/we are the first teachers; we are the examples - what our children learn in their formative years they learn from us - and I'm proud to say that each one of the mothers mentioned above are wonderful examples of what motherhood is all about. But we're the spin offs of an even greater generation of mothers - I sometimes hear me and my friends say to our children "you'd better be glad I'm not your grandmother because you'd be .... " - and I'm sure we call all finish that sentence. How many times have we observed other moms, who are not so good at disciplinary skills, and rolled our eyes in disgust as their offspring proceed to behave badly in public. We, 'the real mothers' look at each other, with eyebrows raised, and through mental telepathy, discuss what we would do if that were our child embarrassing us in public. And we can't wait for them to get off the bus, or the subway, or the department store so that we can verbally compare disciplinary methodologies. Those of us who faced corporal punishment as a kid, rendered by the same hands that rocked the cradle, can make comparisons much bigger than the guys who talk about the fish that got away - how big was that switch? what kind of tree did you have to go to to get it? What happened if you brought one back that was too small, or too brittle? We all know the drill - we've been the exemplars ourselves with our own children. And as beautiful as my mom was, she packed a mean wallop when it came to making sure I understood who was the boss in the family. Mothers' day is May 11 - and for the first time many of us will wear a white rose to signify that our moms have gone on to join the angels. I looked at them today and realized that this, after the homegoing service, is the final finality - the inescapable truth that I will be among that population. That said, these are some of the things I will cherish about all the Moms of my family - including, and especially my Mother, Ruby Love Dulan: First of all, I'm sure Mother's Coffee Cakes, Pineapple Upside Down Cakes, Rhubarb Pies, Pecan Pies and German Sweet Chocolate Cakes must be proliferating all over heaven by now, that is, if Daddy hasn't eaten them all first.
I'm sure Grandmom Cornelia Hornbeak Gaines' Caramel Cake, with honey caramel icing and plum preserves for good measure, is likewise being devoured.
Every summer Mom would pack up the car; fix enough food for a five hour drive, and get us all up at 5:00 in the morning for a drive "down home" to Burneyville, Oklahoma, just outside Ardmore and Marietta, Oklahoma, near the Red River. This required a drive down the twisty, windy, two lane mountain known as the Arbuckles; and through territories in Oklahoma where Black people weren't necessary welcome. She packed the food and a "pee pot" in case we needed to use the toilet; because in segregated Oklahoma, you were not allowed to do so if you were Black.
Dad, who had served during WWII, was always quietly challenging this; and Mother, fearful that he would be lynched or jailed by rednecks, was always trying to pursuade him not to stop at the stores on the side, but to "wait til we get to Burneyville" (a Black and Indian town). I could sense the fear and tension in her tone, and knew it wasn't a good thing. It was that fear that inspired me to become a member of the NAACP Youth Council at the age of 10, and begin participating in the Sit-Ins that took place in OKC to break the segregation barriers once and for all.
Of course, when we got to Grandmom's all that was forgotten. We romped, played, fished, and got into as much mischief as possible - because we knew Grandmom was the boss down home. Mother was the baby daughter, and she got more than her fair share of pampering. So we lapped it up.
Daddy's Mother Zady Dulan
My Grandmom Zady's fresh biscuits floating off the plate, slathered with some of her fresh churned butter was a popular favorite. They lived in Luther, Oklahoma - a little more than an hour and a half drive from Oklahoma City. She didn't have electricity, or hot or cold running water. They had a well that pumped up sweet Oklahoma water. But that didn't stop her from baking the best deep dish peach cobbler with hand made Black Walnut ice cream. When you know how to cook, you cook - no matter what tools you had. She had a wood burning stove, and a cellar for her preserves and canning and that was it. But Grandmom Zady made magic in the kitchen! Every year for Mothers' Day, at Dunbar Elementary School, we were required to make cards for our mothers and grandmothers - signifying how much we loved and appreciated them . We came up with all kinds of gifts - Cigar Boxes converted to jewelry boxes; five gallon ice cream containers transformed into waste paper baskets; Popsicle stick picture frames. We proudly brought them home, and they were proudly displayed for all to see and admire. I remember my mom teaching me how to use the sewing machine. I first had to learn how to sew by hand, and how to embroider. But, I was always fascinated with the fact that she could take beautiful fabric and transform them into works of art - I wanted to learn to do the same thing. She was always afraid that I was going to sew my hand in the machine because I always wanted to go fast. But I managed to master the art of sewing and design thanks to Mom - and embarked on making my own unique clothes for school so I wouldn't be wearing the same thing everybody else had - typical Aries. I was compulsive designer - Simplicity, Butterick and Vogue Patterns were my favorite- so when I got too big to get behind whippings, mother would punish me by taking away the power cord from the sewing machine so I couldn't sew. That, and making me clean the kitchen, were the two worse things she could do to me. I got the message - at least until next time - Out of the four of us, I'm sure I'm the one who tested her patience the most.
Me at 17 When I played Beneatha Younger in "A Raisin In the Sun" at Douglass Sr. High School in OKC -
At Douglass Sr. High School I was a Thespian, and played Beneatha Younger, in "A Raisin in The Sun." I'm wearing a dress I made for the play. I remember Mother making me go to bed, because I had stayed up all night making it. The hem is done with scotch tape. Boy was I skinny Black in the day!! About 90 pounds soaking wet. Of course this was before natural hair styles. Still I was the one who hated sitting still for the hot comb, but permanents (actually temporaries) weren't allowed.
I'm taking personal inventory to make sure I remember all the things my mom tried teach me growing up: "As long as you're green, you'll grow; when you think you're ripe, you begin to get rotten." "Everything you do, do with a will; those who would reach the top, first must climb the hill." "Never leave the house without clean underwear - you never know when you might be in an accident, or have an emergency." "When you cook dinner, the head of the household - Daddy - gets served first, because he's the breadwinner - then everybody else." (this one was because I could eat so much and never gain weight, and was always hungry - I had to be reminded to save some food for Daddy) "Never eat before saying grace." "If he tells you he loves you, watch and see what he does for you." "Handsome is as handsome does." (This was in reference to boyfriends and husbands) "Education is a non-negotiable item." "Don't talk flat." ...and "Behind that preposition!" (her response to the question of "where is it at?" Which would get my mother, my grandmother, and all my aunts yelling that phrase out in unison - I guess it was some kind of family code - speaking proper English, and being grammatically correct were absolute musts in my family on both sides - one that I carried forward with my children, and which they now carry forward with theirs). "There's no such thing as a good excuse - the better the excuse, the worse it is." "THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS CAN'T!!" And this above all: "NEVER, EVER, EVER SAY ANYTHING NEGATIVE ABOUT HER MAN, WARNER HALE DULAN," I shudder to think of the consequences of anyone who was foolish enough to do so. Mother stood 5'3" in her stocking feet - but I swear she would expand to 10 feet tall if necessary.
Those of you fortunate to still have your Moms with you, please make sure you take every opportunity to let them know how much you love and appreciate them. Take lots and lots of pictures. Regardless of how good or bad they look - you will cherish them always. And for those of you whose Moms have made their transition, whether you had your mom for a short time, or were fortunate to have had her for a lifetime, there is never a time when you don't miss her, never a time when you don't need her, and never a time when the love is not rock solid. Just know that that DNA is still very much a part of you, spiritually and physically. Regardless of modern's society's penchant for blaming everything that happens to us on our mothers - who, having grown up in an ever increasingly warped, desensitized society, are doing the best they can under the circumstances - we all know that none of us would be here had it not been for them. That we were definitely wanted, or we would not be walking on this plane of action.
For the most part our mothers put us first before careers, friends, and other family members - their goal was for us to have the best, regardless of what it took; and when I was coming up, it took a lot; and when I was raising mine, it took a lot more. Most of our moms had the back up we didn't have; but thank God for their wisdom, knowledge and understanding that helped us keep ours on the right path so that they, in turn, could likewise become wise, wonderful and nurturing parents in their own right.
And though we're scandalized by those sister moms who have not yet learned the fine art of parenting, we still pray for their enlightenment so that their offspring will be able to look back on their upbringing with fond memories, the way we can, and be able to help set their own little ones on the right track moving forward.
I remember at Mom's Homegoing ceremony, as I took a last look at her beautiful face, I made a promise to redeem myself and to do better going forward. So I'm kicking all setbacks to the curb. It's what she did when she lost Daddy, the love of her life way before his time. When she was diagnosed with illnesses that have crippled so many others. She managed, through all her challenges, to continue to live a full life - completely in control of her faculties; sharp a wit as ever; and stared down adversity until it yielded to her terms. She continued to shine all the way thru until she decided that she was ready to go. And then she ascended.
My mother, Ruby Love, is an inspiration to me, my brothers and sister, our children and grandchildren - that there is no such thing as giving up - there is always a way; and never let anybody tell you what you can't do or accomplish. She was an inspiration to our neighbors and friends who loved her as much as we did.
Lastly, I want to salute my three, without whom I would not have had the privilege of being a mother and knowing such wonderful, beautiful, creative and talented spirits. (and all my friends who know me, know that I'm always bragging about my three - some people think I have ten - because I talk about them so much). We've seen some great times, some rough times, laughed a lot, shared a lot, loved a lot and still love even more. Thanks for being my kids: Kira, Rais and Adiya - Much love to you now and forever more - Momi
Kira, Rais and Adiya - I made three beautiful children - GOD IS PLEASED!!
So to all my SISTER/MOM IN NIGERIA - I AM PRAYING FOR THE SAFE RETURN OF YOUR/OUR DAUGHTERS - AND FOR JUSTICE TO BE SWIFT AND DECISIVE TO THE PERPETRATORS - and anyone else who would deign to harm innocent children.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL MY SISTER/ MOMS WHEREVER YOU ARE!!
Stay Blessed & ECLECTICALLY BLACK Gloria Dulan-Wilson www.gloriadulanwilson.blogspot.com/ECLECTICALLY BLACK NEWS
