You did it, dad

This was supposed to be a surprise. Just a few weeks ago, my father was reading the newspaper and said, "I always look for your name in the paper. Why don't you ever put mine?" I am. But not the way I thought it would be. Because Clifford C. Hightower Sr. died Monday Feb. 9 at the Mountain Home VA Hospital. He was 87. He was my father, my hero and the man who made me a newspaperman. Not directly. He never said I should be a journalist or an editor. But he influenced me indirectly every day growing up in the home and every time I would come home to visit after I left the nest. My dad loved the newspaper. It was as much a part of my household as the furniture, the TV and the telephone. I grew up with newspapers sitting on his end table and him reading it from front to back every night when he came home from work. Every now and then I'd open it up and look at the kid's page. Growing up, I'd hear my old man grouching about anything and everything while reading the newspaper. I understood the government spent too much money and too much of my dad's money by age 10. It wasn't just my dad, though. My mom joined in as well. The newspaper was a family affair. I remember once having my picture in the newspaper. My mom and I drove to the Maryville Daily Times downtown and she bought 10 newspapers to take home. Almost 30 years later, we did the same thing when my daughter, her granddaughter, was in the paper. We always knew who passed away because mom would tell us. Now both are gone. It's funny the things we remember when are loved ones are gone. Many times, it's the little things. But even the small things are big to some. Eight years ago, my father was diagnosed with dementia. Over the course of that time, I watched him deteriorate, his memory starting to fail. But I still saw that newspaper on the end table. A year ago, I moved him from Maryville to Johnson City into an assisted living facility to be closer to me, so I could take care of him. I got him a subscription to the Johnson City Press and when I'd visit him, he'd tell me how, "That's a good paper!" Six months ago, we published a special anniversary section on Hurricane Helene. After it published, he told me all about Hurricane Helene and what he read in the newspaper. By the end, he didn't even remember I was the editor of the newspaper. Dad would read the newspaper, telling me what he read. I'd say, I know, I read it at work. Then I'd hear, "What do you do?" Then just around Christmas, he asked me why his name wasn't ever in the newspaper. I knew my column would be coming up soon and I had planned a surprise for him to write about him in the newspaper and talk about how much he influenced me. The same column I'm writing now. Last week was technically my week to write this column. But then my phone rang at 8:30 a.m., Monday, Feb. 9, and I heard the doctor tell me he had passed away. It was quick. It was painless. His heart that had been failing him for years finally gave out. A heart that had given so much love to the newspaper for decades. Days after my father died, I went to the assisted living facility. I sat down in his recliner, just thinking and letting the surroundings of him soak in. On top of his dresser, I saw something sitting there. A newspaper. Right there ready for him to read. You did it, dad. Your name made the newspaper. Clifford C. Hightower Jr. is the managing editor of the Johnson City Press and the proud son of Vietnam veteran and retired U.S. Army Staff Sgt. Clifford C. Hightower Sr.