My Father and Loucks Park are One in the Same

The small town of Scottdale, Pennsylvania has been my home for the past fifteen years. Being that I reside in such a small town, very few events take place. There is one place in Scottdale though, that it always very crowded during the summer months. This special place is called Loucks Park and it is located right in the middle of town. Loucks Park contains everything that a child would ever need to keep them occupied for an entire day. There are basketball, volleyball, and tennis courts, several jungle gyms, swings, a huge slide, a water sprinkler, and my personal favorite, a softball field. Loucks Park may be a fun place to spend time at for some people, but it holds a very special spot in my heart. I learned how to play softball at Loucks Park, but more importantly, it was my father who taught me. My father has never been extremely involved with my life, except when it comes to softball he is extremely active. Loucks Park is the one place that both my father and I can relate to. My father is very passionate about softball and he has passed down his love for the sport to me. Softball is one of the few things that my father and I have in common, which makes it very important to me. Every time Loucks Park is mentioned, I can only think about the memories that I have shared with my father there. Most children know their father as a provider and protector, but I see my father as a friend and a softball coach.


Loucks Park was one of my favorite places to go as a young child. My father would take my sister and me to Loucks Park almost every Sunday and Tuesday during the summer. After our church services on Sunday mornings, we would change in our van and walk across the street to the park. There were usually tee-ball games doing on during this time, so we would sit on the bleachers and watch them. Our father would attempt to explain to us what was going on, but we were too preoccupied with wanting to go play on the jungle gyms. On Tuesday evenings, we would go to Loucks and practice on the softball field when no one was there. He taught us how to throw and catch a ball, something that neither of us could do very well at the time. He also had bought a tee for us to practice hitting, which was quite entertaining for us. My father had not realized the true potential of my strength until one certain incident occurred. We were practicing our hitting, and I had finally begun to understand how to do it. My father went onto the field and stood in front of the pitching mound in order to stop my ground balls. They usually did not go very far, but this particular time I hit the ball so hard that it landed right on my father’s shin. He did not have a glove, therefore; he had nothing to stop the ball with, nor was he expecting it to happen. Instead of yelling in pain, my father ran over to me, gave me a high-five and said, “Great Job, Kiddo!” Although I was quite young at this time, I will never forget how proud my father was of me on that specific day. From that moment on, my only goal was to learn how to become the softball player that my father had always wanted me to be.


When I was six years old, my father signed me up for the Greater Scottdale Girls Softball League (GSGSL). This is our town’s local business sponsored league, which plays all of their games at Loucks Park. I started out in tee-ball division, where I made many new friends. Each division lasts three years; therefore, I knew the basic rules of the game by the end of this division. My father took me to every single practice and stayed to watch me the entire time. On the drive home, he would complement me on everything that I did right and let me know what I needed to improve on. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this was terrific bonding time with my father. He let me know how proud he was of me every day, which made me feel like I was very special in his eyes. Every time you move up a division, you get placed into a draft and put onto a new team. My father decided to become my coach though, so I was automatically placed onto his team. I was ecstatic about this, but it also made the game a lot more serious because I wanted to win every game for him. Our coaches were our pitchers in this division, and my dad practiced pitching to me almost every night. I did very well with having him as my pitcher and could not wait to show off my skills at our first game. It was a bright and sunny Sunday afternoon at Loucks Park for the first game of the season. I did not sleep very well the night before because I could not wait for this day to come. My dad was always a spectator at my previous games, but now he was right on the field with me, which made this an extremely important day. I was third up to bat with my father pitching, and the two girls before me had hit very well. My nerves were nearly jumping out of my body as I stepped up to the plate. My father looked at me, gave me a smile and said, “You can do it, Caitlin. Just relax.” I could not relax though, and I began to shake after I missed the first pitch. The second pitch had come in too fast and I missed again. My mind was racing at this point because I knew I only had one more chance. My hands were sweating profusely as he released the third pitch. When I swung the bat, it completely slipped out of my hands. I ran into the dugout and began to cry. My father came in to comfort me and this was the first time I felt how much he truly believed in me. He reassured me that everyone makes mistakes, which is something young children tend to have a hard time believing. My father made me believe that I could do anything I put my mind to. His words of encouragement that difficult day still affect my life today. Every time I want to give up, I think of his belief in me and it gives me the urge to continue. I am now able to see my father as more than a coach, but rather a very important support system in my life.

The next level, titled the intermediate division, was my most difficult time at Loucks Park. My father decided to be my coach again, which I was very excited about at first. He let me chose our shirt color and I picked periwinkle, which he was not extremely thrilled about. In this division, we got to pitch to each other instead of our coaches. My father had been practicing with me for a long time because I wanted to become a pitcher more than anything. It seemed to come naturally, and I actually was a very talented beginner. We were top in the division, with our biggest competitor one game behind us. I had been pitching extremely well throughout the season, and I was confident that I could pitch against our biggest rivalry. My dad felt that same confidence in me and he started me as pitcher for the game. It was a cool, gloomy Tuesday evening, but Loucks Park was as crowded as I had ever seen it. Our entire season was riding on this one crucial game. We were ahead the entire game, but only by a few points. I was pitching and hitting very well, and I was sure that we were going to win. It was the last inning, and the opposing team was up to bat. There were two outs and they were down by one point. They had girls on first and second base, and their best hitter was up to bat. My dad came out to the mound and assured me that he knew I could strike her out. He seemed as though he was not nervous at all, but I knew that he was. My dad hated to lose, even if we played as hard as we could. He went back into the dugout, stood along the fence, and gave me a wink. I took a moment to breathe before I stepped back onto the mound. This was the most important pitch of my softball career up to this point. I got into my stance and threw the first pitch. It was a strike, right down the middle. I only had two more to go, and the game would be over. I decided to throw the second pitch inside, and she swung and missed just like I had hoped. The crowd was going crazy at this point, but the only voice I could hear was my father’s. He was yelling along with the rest of the team, “C’mon, Caitlin!” I knew that if I could just strike this one girl out, he would be the happiest man at Loucks Park that day. Glaringly, I approached the mound and looked my opponent straight in the eye. She snarled back at me as I got into position. I threw a perfect pitch, but it was just a little too perfect. She swung the bat so hard, it sounded as though she hit a cement block. I watched as the ball flew over my head and rolled to the fence. The girl that had been on first base was rounding the third-base corner when our outfielder threw the ball in. The first girl had already scored to tie the game, so we had to get the out in order to continue to play. My body was trembling as the outfielder threw the ball to me. I stuck my glove out, but completely missed the ball, which allowed the girl to score. My father screamed at me, and I fell to my knees and began to cry. I was not upset that we lost the game though, but because I knew how disappointed my father was with me at that moment. I walked off the field, but no one said a word to me. It was completely my fault that we lost. If I had thrown a better pitch, we would have easily won the game. I didn’t think that I was ever going to be able to forgive myself. I walked off the field that day believing that it was going to be my last game. I walked over to my mother who was in the bleachers and told her that I quit. She told me that it was just a game, but she didn’t understand how much more it was to me. After two hours of anticipation, my father finally came home. He came up to my room and gave me a hug. I broke down into tears and told him that I was never going back to Loucks Park again. He began to look at me in a way that I had never seen before. At that moment, my father began to tear up as he told me how proud he was of me. I couldn’t believe that he still had faith in me after all of the mistakes I had made. He told me that he could see the dedication in my eyes the entire game, but could feel my apprehension as we went into the last inning. He reassured me that it was only one season and that I had many more to come. My father told me that he would not trade me for the world, not even for the best softball player in the country. Although my mother tried to comfort me after the terrible incident, my father was the only one who could give me the strength to move on. He apologized for yelling at me at the game, but he felt he had to be harder on me than the rest of the teammates. He promised to never yell again, but to give words of inspiration instead. At this moment, my father and I created a bond that no one would ever be able to break. He became the one person that I could confide in, no matter how terrible my action may be. Loucks Park allowed me to gain a new confidence in my father, and I realized that he would always support me.

My last years at Loucks Park were some of the best years of my life. I went from junior to senior division, with my father as my coach. We started attending tournaments during my junior division. My father and his good friend decided to pick an all-star team from the league. They paid for us to attend tournaments throughout the rest of our years in GSGSL. We traveled to many towns, such as Washington, Plum Borough, Penn Hills, McKeesport and Crafton. We won some tournaments and we lost some, but we became extremely close as a team. They became like sisters to me and our coaches were like our fathers, even though only one was really my dad. We earned so many trophies as a team, and we dedicated all of them to our coaches. I truly enjoyed seeing the expressions on my father’s face when we won tournaments. We decided to begin a home tournament at Loucks Park, in memory of the founder of the league. I spent a lot of time with my father while organizing this tournament, which was great bonding time for us. I realized how intelligent he truly is, which I had never known before because I wasn’t around him often. We started this tournament my junior year in high school; therefore, I only got to play in the tournament twice. During my last year in GSGSL, my father decided that he did not want to be my coach. Being a coach was very stressful at times, and he wanted to be able to relax and enjoy my games. I was so used to having my father there with me on the field that I it just didn’t feel the same anymore. I felt like I lost the passion for the game when I lost my father as a coach. He did not realize that his decision was going to cause a negative effect on my game. I tried so hard to impress my father as a coach that when he wasn’t there, I felt no need to perform at my best. My final year of GSGSL was not how I dreamt it would be in any way. Although my senior year did not go as well as I hoped, the rest of my years at Loucks Park left me with unforgettable memories.
Loucks Park was the one place that brought my father and me together. We spent almost every summer day together, which meant a lot to me being that he was not very involved in any other aspect of my life. As a child, I did not realize the significance of the time I spent with him practicing softball. I also did not realize how important softball was going to become in my life. My father hadn’t always supported me in everything that I did, but when it came to softball he was with me every step of the way. Loucks Park allowed us to open up to each other and express out true feelings towards each other. Although he got upset with me on many occasions, he learned how to talk to me about issues rather than to yell at me. I believe that without the opportunities that Loucks Park has provided us with, my father and I would not be as close as we are today. We have spent a large portion of our lives at Loucks Park and it holds a very dear place in both of our hearts. Loucks Park allowed me to spend time with my father that I would not have normally had. I am thankful for every moment that I spend with my father, but our time together on the softball field will be treasured in my heart forever.



^all above photos taken by Caitlin King

Our Journey to Raleigh

My sister, Tina, and I decided it was time to take a journey to our father’s hometown in North Carolina. Raleigh, the city our hearts were searching for, seemed to be surreal, as though it was a picture out of a magazine. Flustered crowds of people wandered the sidewalks and I began to wonder if they ever stopped to take a breath of fresh air. The skyline faded away in some parts of the town due to the rows of skyscrapers that occupy the city. Splashes from the countless number of swimming pools somewhat overpowered the sound of the highway traffic, while they also left the stench of chlorine to fill the air. Much of the nature in the town has been destroyed as a result of the never-ending road construction. It is a city of many people, of all different races and ethnicities. But above all the physical aspects of the city lies a much deeper meaning. Our father’s past, which has been a mystery to us for the majority of our childhood, had finally begun to make sense. The need to be powerful had been bestowed in him at a very young age. Our father had been our protector in the only way he knew how, though we could never understand why: until now. Raleigh, North Carolina, is not only a gorgeous city, but it is a city that holds a very sentimental meaning in both of our lives because it allowed us to realize why our father lives his life in order to protect his children.


Tina and I set out on our journey in the summer of 2007, a voyage which lasted eight days. Although this city may not have provided us with answers to all of our questions, we believed it was a crucial part to a better understanding of our father. Our father is a man of great prestige, but he is well-known for his quiet tongue. He does not talk much about his past, but we do know that is hasn't always been pleasant. His father passed away when he was eight years old, which left the entire family heartbroken. My father had been closest with his father; therefore, when he heard the news of his father’s death, it was as though a piece of his heart had been ripped out. But it was his stepfather, the man I called grandfather, who brought the light back into their lives. He taught them how to love again, something that my father greatly struggled with. He completely opened his heart for anything that they needed, which in turn allowed them to appreciate the new love he had developed for them. Until then, we had never understood why our father had such a difficult time inviting new people into our lives. He was afraid for us because he did not want us to ever have to feel the pain that he endured as a child. We may never know much about our father’s real father, but we now know that his tragic past has caused him to be the protective father that we have grown to love.


Our first step of the journey began with visiting our father’s relatives for the very first time. We met with our aunt, who is our father’s sister, and her daughter, who is our cousin. Our aunt Holly lives in the home in which our father last resided in before moving to Pennsylvania. It was a two-story located in downtown Raleigh, a very suburban area. It was a fairly large home, with ivory siding and navy blue shutters. She gave us a tour, but she said that the interior of the home was nothing like our father would remember. We went to the backyard to find an enormous stump, which had once been our father’s favorite tree to climb. Our father has always been the adventurous type, but we now see where many of his childhood scars are from. From there, we went to a small part of the city to find our cousin, Megan’s, home. She has three daughters, which reminded my sister and me of how we were as children. We found it quite interesting to see how they lived; being that it could have been us if our father had never left the city. They were extremely religious, which is something our father had instilled in us at a very young age. My sister and I had grown up in our mother’s church, which was something that our father had never agreed with. Our aunt described their childhood home as a loving but very strict environment. They went to church every Sunday, unless there were extenuating circumstances. We are now able to understand why our father gets so upset with us when we do not attend church regularly. His mother had brought him up this way, so he feels it is his job as a father to teach us what he knows and believes is right. Hearing about our families religious lives aided in our understanding of why our father believes in the things he does.


Next on our journey we took a tour of the city and saw many important places from our father’s childhood. We returned to the home that he grew up in, which our aunt says is exactly the same as it was when they lived there. We also visited the site our father went to preschool, which was in the basement of an old church. We were unable to get inside though, being that the school was closed during summer. We then ventured a few miles down the road to a park where our father used to play baseball. One fact that my sister and I both know very well is that our father admires baseball. Not only playing the sport, but also watching it. He started out playing when he was very young, which explains why he is a remarkable player. Our father is a very diligent businessman, not leaving him much free time. He does manage his time well though, in order to be our softball coach every summer. He enrolled us in our town’s summer league when we were very young, hoping to pass on his love for the sport to us. We discovered that it was his father who taught him how to play baseball, almost soon after he had learned to walk. We believe that our father acquired his magnificent coaching skills from his father.


Our journey was coming to an end, with only one place left for us to visit: our grandfather’s grave. We arrived at the cemetery, which was located behind the church which our father had attended as a child. The grave read, “Donald Bucky King,” a name that holds a special place our hearts, even though we never had the chance to meet him. There was a cold breeze in the air, almost as though his spirit was with us. Our father is not able to approach his father’s grave because the sadness he feels is simply unbearable, which is another reason as to why my sister and I had to visit for ourselves. Although we had never met our grandfather, the importance of him in our father’s life made it difficult for us to overcome the sorrow that we felt at his grave. My sister and I had suffered through the tragic death of our grandfather at a very young age; therefore, we may now relate it to our father’s pain and heartache. The journey to our father’s past not only allowed us to gain a better understanding of his life as a child, but it also brought us much closer to him on a personal level.


Although the journey of a true understanding of our father may never be complete, this voyage set us off in the right path. We can now build a personal relationship with our father that we never thought was possible. We learned that in our father’s life, actions do speak louder than words, and that he taught us by example, rather than by mouth. We can now understand why we never felt very close to our father. We learned that in order to communicate with him, we must choose our words wisely because he was never able to talk back to his parents. We have learned that when our father yells and gets angry with us, it is not because he wants to be mean. But it is because he loves us more than we could ever imagine and wants to keep us safe at all costs. Most importantly, we have learned that we can relate to our father. We are now able to confide in him with all of our problems and always count on him to give us his most honest opinions. We now know that he would never judge us, no matter how ridiculous our actions may be. Overall, we realized that he is much more than just a father figure in our lives; he is one of our best friends.


Taking a journey to our father’s hometown provided us with answers to many of our questions. We may never fully understand why he believes in certain things, but it is something that we will both strive for throughout the rest of our lives. Not only did we gain a better knowledge of the man we love most, but we also strengthened our sisterhood bond. We experienced this life-altering journey together, which we both believe could never have been done individually. We are now aware of why we were raised to be faithful Christian girls,
which we believe has shaped us into the characters we are today. We are special individuals because of our father’s influence in our lives.

(above photo taken by Caitlin King^)