Being Chased By The Flame: My Father, My Hero

When I was eleven my father passed away and tomorrow marks the 12th Father's Day without him. In honor of the holiday I wanted to offer some words of thanks and love for him. To start I think y'all need to know the story of who Zvi Minc was.

My dad was born in Israel to a survivors of World War II. His father, a pain-in-the-neck man who despite his many flaws was a powerful figure who fled Poland when the Nazis approached, joined the Red Army and after the war fled Russia to settle in Israel. His mother, a woman I barely knew, a survivor of Auschwitz and crippled by bad health including diabetes that progressively ruined her ability to walk and made her blind. My dad was their oldest son and the 1st of 4 children. While they never were happy that he and his family lived in the US, their pride in my dad were beyond obvious. My grandmother died 7 months after my father. It might have been here health, but from the wailing during the entire week of the funeral, a broken heart would be a very valid diagnosis.

After growing up in the kibbutz, he went off to the military with hopes of flying in the Israeli Air Force. While his sight was good, it wasn't good enough and in the end he was assigned to be a mechanic for the Air Force rather than a pilot. While a turbulent time in Israel, his service ended before the Yom Kippur war and as young Israelis have been doing for decades, he traveled to the United States. While he and his current girlfriend went with a group to tour the Poconos Mountains, he met my mom a fellow kibbutznik, and their courtship began. After briefly dating, Israels neighbors surprised it by attacking on Yom Kippur and reservists all around the world, like my dad, headed back to Israel to do their part in defending their country. Corresponding while they were apart, ultimately they decided to get married.

While there is much more I can say I will fast forward at the kind of father he was. Eventually, after settling in Dallas, my dad decided to start his own business using his experience as a mechanic and a job he had as an appliance repairman. As the owner and sole employee of QuikService, my dad was very successful: he did quality work, at a low price and treated his clients with respect. They thanked him with numerous referrals and fierce loyalty. He went to work early, but routinely he would be done by three so he could go play tennis or racquetball with friends before coming home in time to spend the evening with his family.

I often wondered why he didn't work harder and really follow the "American Dream". With how much his clientèle loved him he could've easily gained more clients, charged a little more and found a way to earn more profits. The answer is very simple: he was happy with what he did and he found a better way to spend his time.

That's why, despite being gone these 12 years, my dad continues to teach me a valuable lesson and is a hero of mine. He knew the value of working hard and doing his job right to support his family. We were never lacking something we needed and even got some of things we wanted. We were able to travel to Israel often among other family vacations. He always had time to play games, help us with schoolwork and show us endless affection. He was compassionate, but always firm in one thing: we had to the best we could do to improve ourselves primarily through education. For a man who never took a course in college, he was extremely well read and self education and because of this knew how important it was for his children to do well in school.

If that's not a life lived well, I'm not sure what is. He was successful in his own way, while enjoying life and being an incredible father. I miss him every day and though he's gone still love him dearly.

Thank you Abba for everything.