Join The DULANS in Commemorating Warner Hale Dulan, Sr.'s 100th Birthday Anniversary in Heaven Today August 11, 2021

By Gloria DULAN-Wilson and the DULAN FAMILY

 

Hello All

This is a 100th ANNIVERSARY BIRTHDAY SALUTE TO DADDY

WARNER HALE DULAN, SR.  

AUGUST 11, 1921 TO AUGUST 11, 2021

THOUGH WE LOST HIM ALMOST 40 YEARS AGO, HIS SPIRIT AND LOVE STILL ENDURES THROUGH US ALL

 

 

MY DADDY, WARNER HALE DULAN, SR.,  WAS A FINE BLACK MAN. 

Not only was he Handsome, he was also Fine inside and outside.  He was entranced and fell in love with a wonderful, Beautiful Black Divas - my Mom.  They both knew they had a treasure from day one and had the good sense to love and cherish each other for 47 years.

I am so happy to have had him in my life for 47 years;  and still in my heart now. 

I mentally start celebrating my daddy's birthday long before the actual date of August 11th.  I look at my own handsome son, RA, a Leo, and try to make sure I imbued him with those qualities my dad had.  I look at my handsome grandson Hugh, and see those qualities in him as well.  Leos are regal, loving, determined, dedicated, creative,  courageous, talented and born leaders - whether it's a corporation, an organization, a music group - or their family.  They can't help it.  I am so proud to say that my Dad's DNA is alive and well in me (Aries), my kids, and their kids.
Thank you Daddy.

I am including a compilation of loving memories from our family - including my brothers, sister, cousins, and our children.  I am not editing anything because each memory begins to each one.  There is a thread of texts between my children and their cousins about their memory of Daddy that I think is so special and endearing that I'm also including them, along with the source of the comments.  My comments will be last - even though I'm the first born.  But I'm including some basic information about Daddy to give you a better picture of who Warner Hale Dulan, Sr. was.

Daddy was born on August 11, 1921 in Luther, Oklahoma, which is part of Jones County, OK, which was an All Black town and an All Black County.  He was the second born child - my Aunt Alene was the eldest and 3 years older than he was.  His Mom, Zady (Washington) Dulan was Black and Creek; his father, Silas Sylvester Dulan was Black with some Irish intelopers somewhere back in the gene pool.  Daddy attended and All Black School, with All Black Teachers, in a school that was founded by his grandfather - Ben Dulan - originally called The Dulan School.  Daddy and all his siblings did very well in school - and education was mandatory and non-negotiable - nearly all his aunts became educators, as did both his sisters.  Education was so serious in our family that Daddy used to quiz us on things, double check our homework, check with our teachers, and no one got to do anything privileged or playful if you did not do your homework or weren't doing good in your classes.  Penalties for grades below C major. 

Grandmother was of the Creek nation, and very quiet.  Apparently it's genetic, because Daddy, and his sister Zethel took after their mother and were both extremely quiet, introverted people.  Daddy was the epitome of the  strong silent man.  In a conversation he listened more than he spoke, but when he spoke and started dealing with the issues, you found out very quickly that he was totally up to date, and ahead of the issues.  It was hard to impossible to fool Daddy - and at some point in all our lives, we did try.  Daddy walked with stealth, too - like his mom.  He could enter and leave a room without disturbing anything; and most people would try to figure out how he got there and how long he'd been there.

Daddy had a lot of BLACK/INDIAN PRIDE - and never let us forget we were Black. 

Now that you have some basic understanding of who Warner Hale Dulan was, let's start the tribute.

Brenda DULAN-Moore BRENDA NELL'S SALUTE TO DADDY WHD - BY BND Warner Hale Dulan Sr. was a Great Man, a Greater Husband and the Greatest Father.. He Watched Over and Protected All of Us: His Wife: Ruby  Love( Gaines) Dulan,and his Daughters: Gloria Jeanne Dulan and myself: Brenda Nell Dulan, and his Sons: Warner Hale Dulan Jr. and Silas Sylvester Dulan II. Daddy worked full-time at Tinker Field Air Force Base in the Tool Department, but on the side and on the weekends, he did odd jobs as a handyman. We (kids) all loved going with him on these jobs/adventures and riding in the back of the truck. My Father was very inventive and creative. He would sew detailed horse heads for our stick horses which made us want to play with them endlessly. He was continuously constructing things out of wood and metal and he would create tools as needed. My Mom started me drawing stick people, but my Daddy would color them purple (couldn’t find the brown) to give me a sense of self. When the people from the “Draw Me” ads came out (after they received my entry) Dad and Mom paid for their Art classes. But when they tried to “Whiten” the Features of my Self-Portrait Dad stopped the courses. My Father was speedy when he cooked for us.  He believed in mixing everything together - he would say It was all going to the same place. He was also very patient - one time When I was supposed to be making biscuits, and they came out hard as rocks, he went through the recipe with me until he discovered what was left out (baking soda) so that the next batch came out light and fluffy. He enjoyed drinking iced coffee w-a-a-ay before it was popular and would explain how he wanted his coffee served to the people at the restaurant - much to their chagrin. Daddy taught  me to love cheese. I never liked cheese until he got me to eat it on a hamburger and that was the beginning of me putting cheese on almost everything. I have so many fond and loving “remembrances” of my Father and my Mother. We won the Lottery with our Parents. They were both Unique and they Showered us with Knowledge, Responsibility, Creativity and Love — Especially Love.             I Miss Them Both Everyday.       HAPPY 100TH BIRTHDAY DADDY!!!              Love You Always, Bren-nell The Artwork below is original by Brenda Dulan-Moore Sent from my iPhone

Silas Sylvester "Syl" DULAN II - SECOND SON

 

Dad would be 100 years old on August 11, 2021. I think about Dad a lot since we still have the Home he and Mom raised us in.

Memories are everywhere, Old Photos, Hand Tools, Drinking Cups even some Dads clothing remain. Dad Favorite Dessert was

Pineapple-Upside-Down-Cake. Dad had a specialty in making Punch (In Mom’s Glass Punch Bowl). Family was Number One

With Dad. He and Mom Loved Us and each other.  Being the Baby of the Family I really had a special view of our Wonderful Family.

Family Traditions like eating dinner at the dinner table, using your best table manners.    “ Pass the Bread Please” if you ate the last

of anything you excused yourself from the table and  replaced it. Christmas Dinner would rotate between Grand Dads, our Aunts and

our Home. I really like  getting the house ready for Christmas Dinner, at our house.

Dad was the Strong and Silent type, a hard worker, taught us hard work is good for you.   

Dad, Warner Hale Dulan Sr. Thinking about you,

always Syl.

KIRA (M.M)  HARRELL:  FIRST BORN GRANDCHILD Mom, I am probably not the best person to ask about these things. The longer I live, the less I remember about Grandaddy. Two of my treasured memories of Warner H. Dulan Sr. His laugh - he had a f funny laugh. Kind of a lilt to it. I can't describe it, but I remember him laughing over the phone when we had those calls. Grandaddy was always challenging us as kids. Even over the phone, he'd ask me to spell some word - testing my smarts. I was the smart one; LaDonne, the cute one. And so, I was tested on words at random. I remember that distinctly. ______________________ There are a few other memories, but they are not suitable for this event. I remember when they came to visit (and Dad left). They were in California for a few days. I remember my last visit with them when I was 16. More than anything - the indelible impression of Grandaddy after he passed, changed my life. It made me realize family ties are very important; and miles are no excuse. After college, I made good on my efforts to reconnect with everyone - Andy sons know more about their Midwest roots. ________________________ Sooo let's do this: If I could say something to my Grandfather... I'd say: I love you Grandaddy. Grandmommy was in the best hands until she passed. My family and I came to visit a few times and my sons (your great grandsons) brought the joy of little feet to the house once more. Jaden Warner Randolph Harrell bears your name in fond remembrance. I've traveled to distant lands – to the French Polynesian islands, the Caribbean and other places. I thank you for your service, which has my highest regard because I know a little about how difficult that was. I remember you fondly every December and always. I remember the family in Oklahoma would visit his grave during Memorial and Veterans Day. I remember him and other veterans where I am during Wreaths Across America. We Dulans work to keep connected through technology - which is much cheaper than flights. Oh and Grandaddy... many of us like to cook; and we all love to eat. LOL Photos I love: I don't have many pics. I don't have many photos of me during my visits to Oklahoma when I was little. (there is one pic of all of us - to me, that doesn't count) I like the pictures of Grandaddy when he was young. As a grandchild, you only know them at an older, more settled stage. Grandaddy's pics as a young man gave me a whole different perspective. He looked really cool. I hold onto that "Cool Dude" pic of a young man I didn't know. I think the highest regard is carrying his name forward in my son, Jaden. I love you Grandaddy. Kira Harrell (and don't use my entire name - MOM!) We touch lives everyday; let us hope it is in a positive way. KMH

Family picture - Daddy is on the right - standing  - from LaMont

 FROM GLORIA JEANNE - FIRST BORN

 

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, headstrong, loudmouthed teenager, and later as a woman and a mom.

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 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  bid whist 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 wherever 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 earthworms, 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 earthworm to the ecosystem - i.e., why we needed them in our garden in the backyard (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 a Winchester and a Luger - 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, The 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.  He also maintained copies of the Police Gazette, Ring Magazine, Popular Science and Popular Mechanic.   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 stepped 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 in our looks and behavior - 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. 

  Daddy and I would get into philosophical debates - especially during the time I was actively participating in the sit ins in Oklahoma City.  Our debates, which started when I was about 10 or 11, and had become a part of the NAACP Youth Council, 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 get 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, and the fact that I would stand on my principles.

I was so involved in Civil Rights demonstrations that, when I was 17, Tinker Air Force Base had actually 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.  He was looking at me intently as he said it - he mentioned that if  he lost his job, the family would starve, we could lose our home, and I would not be able to go to college.  But, 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 got this smile one his face 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.  In fact, he later was promoted to the manager of his entire unit.

I can hear Dad telling us:  "Don't be no fool!" when we were about to get into something that might result in a behind whipping; 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.  We were a community - all the kids knew each other as well. 

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 that had been thrown out from a shoe repair place -  they were 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 to the realm of Ancestor/Angel.   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.

  A few years ago, 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, all 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; Lou Wilson, the love of my life; my Son-in-Law Hugh Harrell IV, and so on - Fathers are essential.

Daddy was quiet, like his mother.  His nickname was "Scoop," and my uncle Adolf called him that all his life.  He was a FINE BLACK MAN - in fact, I've said this before, all Dulan men are FINE BLACK MEN.  They come from an amazing gene pool.  Of course I can only trace it back to my grandfather - who was also a FBM.  Daddy loved learning new things, was great with his hands, and tinkered around with all kinds of stuff:  Carpentry, mechanics, upholstery, playing the clarinet, boxing - because my Grandfather taught him, and all his sibs, that there was no such word as CAN'T.  And as soon as that word came up, Daddy would challenge himself to go from Can't to Can to Did.  

 

Daddy was a man of high principle - loyal to his friends and family.  Daddy hated to travel outside Oklahoma City - as a result of the horrors of WWII, and his experience of full on racism in Alabama - he was stationed at Camp Siebert Army Base.  He was traumatized and held a silent anger against whites as a result.  I remember during the time before segregation ended in Oklahoma City, some of the white shops used to have signs in their windows that stated: "We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone."  Dad would see the sign, and would go in and quietly defy the owner to refuse service.  We wouldn't say anything like "Black power," or "honky," he would just place his order, and wait.  He was never refused.  It seemed they could sense this was not the one to mess with.  I think I got my militancy from him.  Of course, I was not aware of the kind of crap he was also going through at Tinker Air Force Base, where most of the personnel there were white.  There was a large number of Black employees there as well, but there was never equal pay, and they gave them the crappiest jobs - and dad was a veteran - as were most of his other fellow Black co-workers.

Daddy made the best bar-b-q.  He taught me the difference between pork ribs and beef ribs - Pork ribs are spare ribs; beef ribs are baby back ribs - something people on the East Coast obviously don't know.  He taught me to be a great jack leg carpenter.  I also learned to mow the lawn - hated it.  I was so glad when he finally got a power mower.  As I said, I had a bad case of motor mouth - inherited from my Granddaddy.  Sometimes I would say stuff that was totally inappropriate, and his response, in that deep, quiet voice of his was: "DON'T BE NO FOOL!" And that was never a threat, it was a promise.

Daddy also served in WWII and was stationed in Camp Seibert Army Base in Gadsden, 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

So I'm saying Thanks Daddy for being the wonderful dad and Sun King that you were/are.  Your birthday is treasured in our family, and always will be, for me.

Lovingly, Your Number One Kid
Gloria Jeanne

 

 

GLORIA JEANNE