My dear friends,
       He was born in Bolton, an industrial city in Lancashire. The family’s flat was accessed by a plank walk hanging over a stream. That stream changed colors frequently, as factories duped their dye lots. His parents eventually made the decision to emigrate, going to the United States for a better life. They settled in Andover, north of Boston, to start their new lives. As the boy became a man, his adopted country erupted in the Civil War. He joined to defend the Union, a nation that welcomed him, educated him, and gave him opportunities he would never have in his birthplace. He served in the United States Navy on ships in the blockade of Southern ports. His name was Joseph Thornley Robinson, and he was my greatgreat-grandfather. I’m indirectly named for him.
      What interests me most about Joseph is what happened after he returned home from war. He had fallen in love with a young woman whom he knew from town, Lavina Margaret McDonough. After returning, he proposed to her. There was a problem; she was an Irish Catholic woman who was born in Derry. His family was English and Protestant. His mother didn’t even like the Anglican Church, as she thought it too “popish”. If he were going to marry ‘that woman’, they would disown him. While he adored his family, he loved her more. They were married in a Catholic ceremony at the rectory of St. Mary’s Church in Lawrence, Massachusetts. His parents and siblings would never again speak to him.
      As a Protestant marrying in the Church in the 1860’s, he had to promise to raise their children as Roman Catholic’s (Today, the Catholic party makes a promise; back then, it was the non-Catholic.) He took that oath seriously. The couple had eight children, and it was Joseph who taught them their catechism and brought them all to Mass. He eventually converted, because he wanted to be buried with his beloved wife and children, and he wanted them to be buried in holy ground. He was going to be the loving and accepting parent he didn’t have. While he died young, his memory was treasured by his wife and children for the rest of their lives.
    Joseph Robinson did not just sire children, he was a father. He honored the commitments of his life and chose to be a man of kindness and compassion. He was a person of faith, hope, and love. His ability to bravely serve his nation inspired his children to be devoted citizens. His ability to see past the racist and prejudicial views of his time allowed a family to grow in the ability to respect and cherish people of various backgrounds, ethnicities, and religions. As a loving husband and devoted father, he made a difference. He chose to live a way of life outside the rigidly discriminatory views of his day. Those values passed to his children, and his love and acceptance gave them visions of how to raise decent families of their own.
      On this Fathers’ Day, we honor all fathers. There is more to it than just having children. To be a real father, one has to choose to love. One has to actively teach children the values of faith, honor, and commitment. To all the men who do that, we offer out profound respect, gratitude, and love. Happy Fathers’ Day to you! You do make a difference in the world.