Officer wears love of father as badge of honor

Clarke Paris

Friday, June 14, 2002 | 8:52 a.m.

Editor's note: Clarke Paris is a sergeant with Metro Police and has spent the past 18 years a police officer. He founded CRAVE -- Cops Racing Against Violence through Education -- and has been one of the top motorcycle drag-racing police officers in the nation. He wrote this essay about his dad for Father's Day, titled "My Dad's Boots":

I was born to a single mom and never knew my biological father. My mother married a man when I was an infant. He is the man I will refer to as Dad in this story. His name is Jack Pope.

I had two older sisters and one older brother, but that didn't scare my dad away. He took on the job of raising four children who weren't even his. When I was 4 years old, my mom and dad had another baby, my little brother, Jack.

Well, I am an adult now and live a good life. Just recently I was talking to my mom about how great my dad is. I told her that we hear so many stories today about stepdads and how they beat their children, abuse their children or just don't really care about them. I told my mom that it felt so good to have a dad who loved me and recalled an era in my life when I was 12 years old. The story:

My dad was an auto-body repairman. He didn't make an awful lot of money but he refused to let my mother work and he raised and supported all of us. When I was in kindergarten my dad bought a minibike for me. It wasn't new. It was used and not in the best condition, but I loved it.

Shortly after I received the minibike, I began racing it at the local track and motorcycles became a big part of my life. As time progressed I grew, as did my riding ability and my dad purchased a larger, faster motorcycle for me (another used model).

Well, I outgrew that one as well and I was not competitive because of the rapidly advancing technology. In 1976 my dad purchased, for himself, a Yamaha 360 Enduro. It was a used motorcycle and he was very proud of it. Dad rode his motorcycle to work daily and kept it very clean.

I remember his friends coming to our house and they would stand around his bike as he showed it to them. Even at my age I could see my dad's chest puffing out as he bragged about his new motorcycle.

It wasn't long after the purchase of his Enduro that I came home from school and saw a shining new Yamaha YZ80 in the driveway. It was mine. My dad traded his motorcycle that he was so proud of, so that he could purchase a motorcycle for me that would make me competitive. He never pressured me to be a professional racer or even to win a race. He just wanted me to have fun.

I so remember what he said to me before every race: "Blow their doors off, son." I never became a professional racer but my life as a child was great.

As I told my mom this story I also told her that every photograph of Dad and I showed both of us wearing work boots. You see, from a very young age I wanted to be just like my dad. Most kids had school shoes and play shoes. I had play work boots and school work boots, both of which were the same pair -- we couldn't afford to buy two pair of boots.

At night my dad would put his boots beside his bed and I would put my work boots beside my bed -- just like my dad. I loved walking beside him and watching both of us step with the same kind of boots.

When it was time for my dad to purchase a new pair of boots my mom would have to shuffle money around and work the boot purchase into the budget.

Of course I would go with my dad to get his new boots -- he was my dad. When we returned home my mother and father got into an argument. They argued because he had spent the money, but not on a new pair of boots for himself. Instead he purchased a new pair of boots for me, and his response to my angry mom would be, "Don't worry, Charlene, I will just tape mine up," and that he did.

It seems as if my dad always had the toes of his shoes taped up and mine never were, of course.

I wanted to write this story because my dad is a great man and we, as people, don't appreciate some things until we become adults. My dad wasn't patching a hole in his boots, he was patching a hole in a little boy's life. Mine.

I have grown into a responsible adult. I have a successful career as a sergeant with Metro. I have more than I could have ever dreamed of -- thanks to my dad.

My dad was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease and I wanted to let as many people as possible know how truly great Jack W. Pope Sr. is. He was a great body man, a great husband, a great friend and the absolute best dad a boy could ask for.

Thank You, Dad. Happy Father's Day.

I love you,

Clarke