Dad Was a Carpenter: A Father, A Son, and the Blueprints for a Meaningful Life

No, Dad wasn't really a carpenter. Kenny Kemp's father was a pharmacist who liked to make things in his garage, a man who always saw something new and useful in things old and worn. "To him, a piece of plywood wasn't just lumber: it was a travel box, a bunk bed, a train set platform, or a dresser," explains Kemp. Soon after his father died, Kemp traveled to San Diego to face the grim task of sorting through his dad's belongings. In the garage, the flashbacks begin: the time when Dad helped him build a go-cart out of a broom and a washing-machine part, or the time Dad made an aluminum-frame backpack for the author's first scouting trip. The memories build upon each other, crafting a father-son relationship that has its share of hard knocks, but that's ultimately sealed with the lasting glue of loyalty. We see how fathering a child is a spiritual act, one that requires attention, ingenuity, and ongoing patience. And we see how a handyman father helps a young boy become a good man--a man who ultimately witnesses the painful death of his father from Lou Gehrig's disease. In the end, Kenny Kemp's Dad Was a Carpenter is like his father's handiwork: simple, lasting, and filled with an affirmation of fatherly love. --Gail Hudson