Thank you to everyone that contributed to the April issue. I would like to see more of our readers write or submit articles. EVERYONE that reads the McCarty Metro is encouraged to write for it. Welcome to Diann Matz and Nancy. They are our most recent subscribers to the McCarty Metro. Very soon we will have our 7000th visitor over the past 2 years. Not bad for a family with 8 kids. Instead of only having my final thoughts this month, I am asking for your help, and I want to hear your final thoughts. On April 4, 2005, our father, Robert Lawrence McCarty would have turned 79. Although he passed away on June 1, 1991, and the pain of losing him has subsided, there is not many days that go by that I don't think about him and smile. I still use in my daily life, the examples he set as a wonderful husband, nurturing father and loyal friend. This month, whether you called him Dad, Uncle Bob, Grandpa, Mr. McCarty, Mac, or Bob, I would like to have all of our Metro readers submit a memory, thought, or favorite story or recollection about him. Thank you, and may your loved ones be YOUR final thought. -Kelly . 
Robert L. McCarty
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A LETTER FROM HEAVEN I'm writing this from heaven. Here I dwell with God above.
Here, there's no more tears of sadness; here is just eternal love.
Please do not be unhappy just because I'm out of sight.
Remember that I'm with you every morning, noon and night.
That day I had to leave you when my life on earth was through,
God picked me up and hugged me, and He said: "I welcome you."
It's good to have you back again; You were missed while you were gone.
As for your dearest family, they'll be here later on.
I need you here badly; you're part of my plan.
There's so much that we have to do, to help our mortal man."
God gave me a list of things, that he wished for me to do.
And foremost on the list, was to watch and care for you.
And when you lie in bed at night, the day's chores put to flight.
God and I are closest to you.... in the middle of the night.
When you think of my life on earth, and all those loving years,
because you are only human, they are bound to bring you tears.
But do not be afraid to cry; it does relieve the pain.
Remember there would be no flowers, unless there was some rain.
I wish that I could tell you, all that God has planned.
But if I were to tell you, you wouldn't understand.
But one thing is for certain, though my life on earth is o'er.
I'm closer to you now, than I ever was before.
There are many rocky roads ahead of you and many hills to climb;
but together we can do it, by taking one day at a time.
It was always my philosophy, and I'd like it for you too...
that as you give unto the world, the world will give to you.
If you can help somebody, who's in sorrow and pain.
then you can say to God at night... "My day was not in vain."
And now I am contented... that my life has been worthwhile,
knowing as I passed along the way, I made somebody smile.
So if you meet somebody who is sad and feeling low,
just lend a hand to pick him up, as on your way you go.
When you're walking down the street, and you've got me on your mind;
I'm walking in your footsteps, only half a step behind.
And when it's time for you to go... from that body to be free,
remember you're not going... you're coming here to me.
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Submitted Memories
(Most Recent Are Listed First) - There were lots of things that Dad said to me that I still remember vividly. Some things were funny, some serious, but two that really stand out in my mind because it showed me even another side of Dad... When I was an adult, but still lived at home, I used to try to embarrass Dad (while embarrassing myself) in public. At Lakeside Mall, the supermarket, or other crowded place, I used to see him from a fairly good distance, I would yell "DADDY!" and run to him with arms flapping and my feet kicking the back of my butt. People would just stare at this 6'3" guy running to his daddy. But instead of being mad, he told me that he hoped I never changed. Another time was when I was 17, and Dad visited me at JCPenney while I was working. We were talking, when a customer came in to the department. I said to Dad "Excuse me", and walked up to the customer, introduced myself, and let him know if he had any questions to feel free to ask. When I went back to Dad, he had a look of pride on his face as he said "Wow Kelly, I can't believe you just walked up to that guy and talked to him"
-Kelly
. - One of my favorite stories of Dad in retirement is when he and Mom went on a driving trip to Florida. Dad stopped at a Stuckey's Restaurant in Georgia. Both Mom and Dad got the Breakfast Buffet. But Dad said he just wanted to get a big bowl of Oatmeal. After filling the biggest bull he could find, he sprinkled some Brown Sugar on it and returned to his seat, when the 18 year old waiter came to him and said. "Sir, don't you want any biscuits for that big bowl of Gravy?"
-Jerry
. - 4th of July was always a big deal for Dad. I remember when I was in kindergarten I made my own firework - paper caps taped together. I told dad to hit it with a hammer. It left a black circle on the driveway and burned the hair off of his arm. His response was "wow - don't do that anymore". There was some other story about Dad firing a cherry bomb out the front door too - somebody tell me that. Anyways - Dad loved a good firework show - especially when we would beat fingers across the ditch.
-Steve
. - I'll never forget the huge smile and wave from the end of what seemed to be his four foot long arm every time I'd see him walking through the sub. Definitely one of the greatest men that I'll ever know!
-Jim Seeling
. - I just remembered Dad's public-speaking course. How many times did you hear "Casey at the Bat"? He was a natural. And Dad's partners and friends had the best names, such as Junior O'Glinski, Joe Zisler and, my favorite, Stashew Gruska.
-Mike
. - I remember Dad going back to college to take a public speaking class. On one assignment, he had to deliver a demonstration speech and he chose to demonstrate the proper way to shave. He practiced this speech over and over... and used a real blade each time he practiced shaving. Talk about a close shave. When the day came for Dad to deliver his big speech... he skipped class. Now I know where I got that bad habit from.
-Larry
. - Dad's favorite song to hear Mom play on the piano... "Alley Cat". There were some things funny things that I HAD to remember to survive with Dad. 1. If you ever saw him with a can of air freshener, be prepared to run, or get sprayed in the butt. 2. If driving with Dad to school on a warm morning in the back seat, get in the passenger side, or be prepared to duck 'loogies' being hacked up from the driver out his drivers side window. 3. At dinner, if you didn't want extra seasoning on your food, be prepared to dive on your plate like a live hand grenade to cover it from the 'mass salting'.
-Kelly
. - When Mom was in the hospital after giving birth to Steve, Dad had to take care of us and get us ready for school. I remember crying to Dad and saying, "Today is "Show and Tell" and Mom always helps me!!! What am I gonna do?"" Without hesitating Dad took a 3 x 5 card and wrote with a pencil on it "6 lbs. 7 oz." Dad said "SHOW them this and TELL them you got a new brother." That morning at school, I passed around the card and told the class my story for the lamest Show & Tell in the history of Parkman Elementary.
- Jerry McCarty
. - Dad was and always will be my Hero. A World War II veteran, a 25 year Detroit Police Officer, and another 17 in Security at Harper. My favorite Harper story was when he was about to arrest some punk who took a swing at Mac - his response was awesome - "Go ahead and try that again, I will blow your ass from here to Woodward Avenue." Needless to say there was no further struggle. He was a tough guy on the outside, but a teddy-bear on the inside. It is pretty amazing to see the great family he created. I remember taking naps with Dad before he would start the afternoon shift, the games of next one to talk is Mrs. Pappler - and he would always be the first one to talk. When no one would answer him, his standard "Testing One Two Three". Who could forget the snack trays dad would make, or the ribs (with no meat just a membrane on them) and Dad saying - whoooeee - that's eatin'. Classic Dad stories of serving mashed potatoes with two fingers (except to guests), telling jokes over and over again (often incorrectly). I can go on and on and on. I love you Dad and miss you so much.
-Steverino
. - One of the memories I have of Grandpa Bob is a word I still use to this day - "Floater". When we were little and over for Christmas Eve one year, Kevin took a number two in the bathroom next to the kitchen. Grandpa went in there shortly after and called out "Who left a floater in here". Grandpa later explained to me that a "Floater" is when one of the nuggets doesn't go down with the rest! Well, to this day I still call a "Floater" when I see one! If Grandpa were still with us today, I'm sure he'd be teaching me some other choice words if he walked into the bathroom after one of Kevin's grown up number-two's!!!
-Erin
. - I remember in 1969 when Kelly and I joined the Banana Splits Fan Club, we recruited Dad as a new member. Dad learned the Banana Splits secret handshake and even took the oath. 22 years later when Dad passed away we found out what was important to him. In his wallet was a picture of my Mom and Him, school pictures of his 8 sons, and a wrinkled Banana Splits membership card signed by Fleegle, Drooper, me and Kelly.
-Jerry McCarty
. - Gosh, I loved your Dad. I miss him greeting me with a loud "hello, Kristen" from his lazy boy. Earlier in mine and Steve's dating period, I would see Bob quickly race by the front door, slamming it in Steve's face. He was racing up the stairs to put on a robe because we had stopped by and he was in his pj's. Then he got real comfortable around me and he would be just in his underwear (just kidding). I'm sorry for those in our family who didn't meet one of the greatest men on earth, but if you spend some time with his sons it's a pretty darn good substitute.
-Kristen
. - Oh, yeah, I remember the "Michael, Michael, Michael," too, but it was always after I did something klutzy - which was fairly often. Still is. And who could forget rolling down hills in summer? You want entertainment? Dad loaded up the car, took us to a Rouge Park hill, we rolled down several times, went home and recouped from the bumps and bruises, and did it again the next week. Cheap thrills. Happy birthday, Dad.
-Mike McCarty
. - There are a lot of memories of Dad ... all of them good. I remember his smile and the way he would nod his head just before messing up a punch line on a joke and then he would laugh hysterically until everyone started laughing. I remember Dad saying "love ya, love ya, love ya" as he walked through the house or saying "Michael, Michael, Michael", (because he was the favorite). I remember the famous fruit platters, the snack for watching the moon landing, the cool shades, turning on the lights so I wouldn't ruin my eyes, and the best memory is Floor Hockey in the Basement between Red Wing Hockey periods. Dad and DJ would check each other into the old player piano... and usually it was just a bunch of hot tempered Irish men kicking a ball, but it was quality time (followed by fresh popped popcorn). Dad set a great example of how a loving father/husband should act... he is missed... but a part of him carries on in each of us... Love ya, Love ya, Love ya!
-Larry
. - There are some little things that all by itself seems so insignificant, but to a little boy who really looked up to his Dad, it meant the world. I remember during the summer when I was 7 or 8, we knew Dad was coming home from his Detroit Police job. Jerry and I would run up to the corner of Sussex and West Chicago and when he turned the corner, we would hitchhike home with him. Also, I remember when everyone would pile into the station wagon and go out for Tastee Freeze on Sunday evenings. For entertainment in the car, we would count garbage cans, and our Dad, when making turns, would do them a little sharper than normal, so the 4 guys in the middle seat would be forced to "squish" the person who got the door seat. I also remember when Mom made a "special" dinner, my connoisseur father would comment "This meal would cost $3.95 in a fancy restaurant" (which was a real compliment back in the 60's). There are so many more of those little things, so I look forward to other responses.
-Kelly McCarty
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