Avoiding Regret: A Son’s Tribute on Father’s Day
Marc Duebber reached out to me last week.
I met Marc in junior high. His father gave me a job while I was in college. Before retiring and passing his business on to Marc, Al Duebber owned and operated Duebber’s Automotive Center, a community fixture on the corner of Cleves-Warsaw and Ebenezer roads.
Full disclosure:
I wasn’t allowed near a car or wrench. Al didn’t become a successful businessman making mega-blunders.
I worked in the storefront carryout. My car mechanic skills allowed me to sell candy, chips, cigarettes and beer.
***
Marc knew I wrote human-interest pieces, formerly for Trackwrestling.com, now as a freelancer.
As Father’s Day approached, Marc admitted he found himself reflecting more than he ever has. He’s noticing how quickly each year passes. Yesterday he was graduating from high school. Today, he’s 51.
“It’s crazy,” he said. “You hear it all the time, but the years really do go by fast.”
With that, Marc asked me if I’d write about his dad.
There’s a certain something with fathers and sons, where sons lack the ability to express to dads what we wish we could. Marc’s there now.
He wondered if I could help.
“I’ll tell you Dad’s story,” Marc said. “You write it. He should know how l feel about him, what I think about him.
“I’m not good at telling him this stuff,” he said.
Marc’s father, Al, is 74. He’s lived in Delhi, Ohio his entire life.
His ancestors were founding members of the community. Perhaps those who live on Duebber Drive, a residential street in Delhi, know that. So might neighbors who live on Bob Drive or Don Lane. Bob and Don were both Duebbers.
After serving in the Army National Guard and graduating from the University of Cincinnati, Al leased a small Marathon gas and service station on the corner of Anderson Ferry and Foley roads. A loyal customer base developed. Al’s straight-shooting, honest assessment of repairs that were needed — and repairs that weren’t — impressed customers.
His reputation as a knowledgeable, fair mechanic spread. Ten years later, in 1983, he moved his business to a newer, larger location, where it remains today.
“He has a work ethic he inherited from his dad, my grandpa,” Marc said. “Having the ability to expand to where we are now was a direct result of that. He worked hard. He built his business.”
Also, Al developed a habit for diving into wherever he thought he might be able to help.
“Dad always thinks things can be better,” Marc said. “I think that was behind all of his community involvement.”
He served on the school board, the local Kiwanis chapter, the Delhi Historical Society and founded a charitable ministry, one which has become known, simply, as “Wheels.”
“Wheels” serves people/families in need of a vehicle, but without the financial means to purchase one.
It started unintentionally.
Sort of.
“A woman came into the shop, and her car needed extensive repairs,” Marc said. “It was obvious to Dad she was struggling. She couldn’t afford to pay for what needed to be done.”
Al told the woman to leave the car with him. He’d try to see what he could do.
“It was close to quitting time,” Marc said. “Dad explained the situation to the guys in the shop. He asked them if they could stay late. They did.”
The next day was Christmas Eve.
“My dad brought the car to the woman’s driveway. He said it was a gift, that she owed him nothing.”
Pausing for about five seconds, Marc continued.
“I just think that made him feel good.”
The idea for “Wheels” was born. For the last 20 years, cars donated to the program are inspected, repaired and given away, free of charge.
“Where do you think your dad gets his compassion, his sense of duty?” I asked.
“The hard work gene is definitely from his dad,” Marc said. “We called him ‘Big Al’ and he was a dairy farmer, then he sold life insurance for MetLife. The softer side of my dad is from my Grandma (Patricia). She was always thoughtful, always collecting things, saving things.
“Dad once visited Grandma, and she asked him to check out a trunk they had in the basement. Dad wasn’t in the mood, but Grandma insisted.
“So Dad goes down there, probably wondering why Grandma wants him to check out the contents of this trunk. He opened it, and inside were all his Tonka toy trucks from his childhood. Dad couldn’t believe it. He loved those.
“Grandma knew he loved them, so she’d saved them. That’s how she was. He has them on display on a cabinet in his garage to this day.”
Marc shared the final contributor to his dad’s compassion.
“Living life for Jesus Christ wasn’t always a big thing with my dad,” he said. “Then my sister, Laura, had a pretty serious health issue.”
Marc’s younger sister came home from school one day. Soon, she was talking on the phone with a friend.
“All of a sudden, she was on the floor in pain,” Marc said. “It was scary.”
Doctors found that Laura had hip degeneration. She was twelve.
“I just remember she was in the hospital for almost a month,” Marc said. “At that time, my mom would go to church, but my dad never did. Mom was so worried. We all were, but Mom shared with the pastor, Terry Williams, about Laura’s situation.”
Pastor Williams began visiting Laura regularly.
“My dad was struggling. He sees his daughter in pain and the prognosis for her future was kinda up in the air. And there was nothing Dad could do for her. It was killing him.
“There’d never been a situation Dad couldn’t work himself out of. This was the first.”
His daughter’s illness knocked Al Duebber to his knees, but only figuratively.
“Terry Williams coming so frequently to the hospital, to be honest, I think it irritated my dad. That’s just where Dad was at the time, as far as his faith in God went.
“One day, Dad point-blank said to him, ‘Why do you keep coming here?’ I can’t remember the exact details, but Terry basically told my dad that it was his duty as a pastor to offer hope to members of his congregation, especially when they’re in need. My mom had told him of Laura’s condition, so Terry looked at it as his duty to visit and pray for her.”
Something about Pastor Terry Williams’ faith knifed through Al Duebber.
Al and Debbie Duebber’s daughter would eventually be allowed to come home. In time, a hospital bed, traction and months of physical therapy brought about a complete healing.
“Honestly, with the condition she was in, it was a miracle,” Marc said.
And Al Duebber never forgot Terry Williams.
“Terry’s faith and conviction brought my dad to Jesus,” Marc said.
“Can you measure what kind of difference that faith has had in your dad’s life?” I asked.
“It’s had a profound effect. He lives his faith. I admire my dad, the husband he’s been to my mom, the dad he’s been to Laura and me. The grandpa he’s been. So much of that comes from his accepting Jesus. I’m just so grateful for him.
“And I wanted him to know.”
***
Tomorrow, cars and customers will stream in and out of the multiple garage ports and front door of Duebber’s Automotive Center. Next year, the family will celebrate its 50th year of business. Marc Duebber will be grateful for all of it.
And, if it’s true that words left unspoken carry the most weight, perhaps he’ll feel a little lighter, too.
