most influential people in your life

[Guest]

Who were they and what did they teach you?

Dont just post for the sake of it. Do one person at a time and come back when yer ready for the next influential person in your life

Bottom line is to think about this. And then be sure to thank that person if they're still around

 

[Guest]

Mine was my dad who died when i was a teeenager. He was a shoemaker who taught me to work for what you want cuz it doesnt fall in your lap.

 

[matriarch]

A woman I met 16 years ago, at probably the lowest point in my life, and who quickly became my closest and dearest friend.

She taught me to value myself again, to know my worth. She taught me how to seek out and use my inner strength, to make my own decisions, and to stick by them.

She literally gave me my life back.

Without her.......I would have still been this downtrodden, mousey, woman with no purpose or direction to her life. And I most defintely wouldn't have been here on Lit.

I shudder, literally shudder, to think what my life would be like know if I hadn't met her.

 

[Guest]

A woman I met 16 years ago, at probably the lowest point in my lifem, and who quickly became by closest and dearest friend.

She taught me to value myself again, to know my worth. She taught me how to seek out and use my inner strength, to make my own decisions, and to stick by them.

She literally gave me my life back.

Without her.......I would have still been this downtrodden, mousey, woman with no purpose or direction to her life. And I most defintely wouldn't have been here on Lit.

I shudder, literally shudder, to think what my life would be like know if I hadn't met her.

wow thats really beautiful.

Does she know?

 

[matriarch]

wow thats really beautiful.

Does she know?

Yes she does.

And, for the record, she's the first woman who ever kissed me.

Took my knees out. Affected me so much I wrote a poem about it.

Yes, I had a major crush on her, but we were destined to be sexless soul mates. I know that we will be part of each other's lifes for the rest of our years.

 

[impressive]

My son.

He put everything in perspective. Everything.

 

[scheherazade_79]

My old English teacher. She's down to earth, speaks her mind without thinking, and has known me since I was seven. She always encouraged me in my creative writing, and instead of playing by the book and encouraging me to write nice, meaningful, descriptive passages, she pushed me in the direction of outrageous real life accounts.

She's still one of the few people I listen to. Sometimes her comments have come like barbs, but she's always right, no matter how much it annoys me to admit it.

 

[rgraham666]

Neil Simpson and Neil Fowke. Two of the worst of the many bullies who made my life hell growing up.

By their actions they taught me all about what not to be.

Mr Simpson burned his brain out with LSD before he was twenty. Mr. Fowke, at age twenty one, drank eighteen beers and went for a drive on his motorcycle.

Poor bastards.

 

[TheEarl]

She's in my signature.

The Earl

 

[oggbashan]

Aunt Charlotte

[Note: Name changed to protect anonymity]

My Aunt Charlotte was a Victorian, born in the latter years of Queen Victoria’s reign. She was the eldest surviving child of my paternal grandparents.

She had to help her mother bring up her siblings because, unusual for those days, her mother had to do a significant amount of work away from the home. Why? Because Charlotte’s father, my grandfather, was an alcoholic even though that term wasn’t invented then. He was a printer, a trade noted for hard drinking. One of Charlotte’s duties was to meet her father outside the print works on pay day and try to get as much money from him as possible before he went to the public house with his workmates. If she failed, the family starved that week unless her mother had a few pennies from her work left after paying the rent that my grandfather never considered an essential payment. Charlotte started father-chasing at age 5 and had to continue meeting him even when she became an adult.

She joined the children’s section of a teetotal campaigning group, like the modern Al-Ateen, through contact with a member of the Salvation Army who frequently saw Charlotte continuing to harass my grandfather even inside the public house. That teetotal group helped Charlotte to persevere with her education despite her responsibilities to her siblings, and sponsored her to train to become a Lady Typewriter, a high-tech position in those days. Charlotte as a Lady Typewriter soon surpassed her father in earning power even if his total earnings had been available to the family which of course they never were. Charlotte supported the whole family.

Charlotte used her skills to become indispensable to a large company in the City of London, eventually becoming the Managing Director’s Secretary although she could never have the title, nor the pay, that would have been given to a man holding that position. In her spare time, and it was typical of Charlotte that she found the time, she was a Suffragist, a woman campaigning for the vote for women by legal means, as opposed to the Suffragettes who used Civil Disobedience. Her typing skills were a considerable help to the Suffragist organisation, as were her contacts in the City of London. She gave a living proof that a woman at work could be an asset and just as effective as a man.

Charlotte persuaded each of her siblings to join the children’s section of the teetotal organisation as soon as she had taught them to sign their name to the teetotal pledge. She continued to do that for her great-nephews and great-nieces. My brother signed the pledge at age 10. I signed at age 7 and Charlotte gave me my own inscribed Bible, the first adult book I had ever owned. She made sure I read it and was pleased when I won a prize for Bible Knowledge a year later.

Eventually Charlotte finally persuaded her father to sign the pledge too. He kept his promise and survived to become a delightful grandfather, a complete change from the drunken lout he had been.

After the First World War, while still supporting her younger siblings, Charlotte left the City of London and joined the teetotal organisation as an officer and eventually as Company Secretary, the Board Member responsible for ensuring that the organisation met all the legal requirements imposed on it as a charity. She held that position until she finally retired aged 75.

Charlotte tutored the older brothers so that they both passed examinations to enter the Post Office and progressed through the Civil Service. Eventually both brothers held senior positions in the Civil Service, were awarded honours and attracted a variety of community roles. Despite their success, neither of them achieved Charlotte’s earning power even though women were paid less than men for similar work.

Charlotte first helped the family and then her brothers to buy houses. My first memories are of Aunt Charlotte living with my family. She owned half the house. My parents owned the other half, and the mortgage and utility bills were shared. When my parents moved abroad, the house was sold. With her half of the equity, Charlotte bought another house to live with her youngest sister, sister’s husband and daughter. It was Charlotte’s house.

Charlotte thought for a long time that her youngest surviving brother, Harry, was her failure. I have written about him elsewhere. Harry would not accept her offer of help with his education and then was enlisted for World War II. After recovering from a near-fatal bout of tuberculosis, Harry married his nurse and settled down to a placid life of apparent non-achievement, except happiness. He enjoyed his music, his semi-legal street trading, and working with youngsters in a brass band. Eventually Charlotte realised that Harry was perhaps her greatest success. He had found a lifestyle that supported him and his wife, not in luxury or with the latest gadgets, but in absolute enjoyment of every day of their lives.

After Charlotte retired she could not remain idle. She worked for local government as an advisor to pensioners on what help they could claim from the various authorities, and how they could adapt their life-styles to increasing age and frailties. She would come home with remarks like: “There was this poor old dear, living alone on a meagre pension…”. The ‘poor old dear’ was at least ten years younger than Charlotte.

She had always been an active member of the Church of England. The area in which she lived was changing. The congregation gradually acquired many immigrant families that Charlotte helped to welcome and encouraged to bring their music to the worship of the church. Charlotte was the pianist for choir practice and learned Jamaican rhythms in her 80s. That wasn’t enough for her. Some of the younger immigrants were drifting away from their parent’s church so Charlotte started a youth group for the teenagers. Charlotte was a small woman, less than five feet tall. In her later years, from her mid 80s, she had to use two sticks to walk. If her awkward teenagers became too rowdy, she would raise one of her sticks in the air. That was enough to quell the noisiest group. None of the other helpers had Charlotte’s ability to work with the most disaffected boys and to encourage them to do their best for themselves, their families and their church. She taught, as she had taught her own family and even her father, personal responsibility.

When Charlotte finally died, nearly 91, her church was full for her funeral. The choir sang with passion and fervour and many people the family didn’t know gave oral tributes to the woman who had changed their lives. The service was a celebration of a life, not a mourning for her passing. Everyone was there to say ‘Thank the Lord for Charlotte’.

Og

 

[Joe Wordsworth]

My father. He's my hero.

 

[Guest]

[Note: Name changed to protect anonymity]

My Aunt Charlotte was a Victorian, born in the latter years of Queen Victoria’s reign. She was the eldest surviving child of my paternal grandparents.


Og

What a beautiful story OG!!!

She sounds wonderful

 

[Guest]

My father. He's my hero.

why? ...

 

[Joe Wordsworth]

why? ...

He's the most perfect parent a kid could have had. He never drank, smoked, caroused, spent his money on himself; never cussed, never got violent, never lied to me or anyone else, never missed a day of work, never failed to pay one bill ever.

At the same time, he saved his money, never bought luxuries or toys for himself; he cared about his kids, always tried to be happy and supportive, emphasized education as my only job when I was younger (and accepted nothing less than the best I could do).

He's the model I hold all other parents to... and I find them all wanting.

He's a great, great man. Never got much of an education, never got far in life at all. But, he's never done anyone wrong and doesn't feel a bit downtrodden.

 

[Guest]

He's the most perfect parent a kid could have had. He never drank, smoked, caroused, spent his money on himself; never cussed, never got violent, never lied to me or anyone else, never missed a day of work, never failed to pay one bill ever.

At the same time, he saved his money, never bought luxuries or toys for himself; he cared about his kids, always tried to be happy and supportive, emphasized education as my only job when I was younger (and accepted nothing less than the best I could do).

He's the model I hold all other parents to... and I find them all wanting.

He's a great, great man. Never got much of an education, never got far in life at all. But, he's never done anyone wrong and doesn't feel a bit downtrodden.

Does he know this?

 

[Guest]

Lucky

because of so many reasons. one is because she drew me out of my self-conscious shell. she showed me that i don't have to be the sole 'giver' in a relationship...age differences are only what you make of them...that it's ok to laugh all the time...that im worth loving.
for this and so much more, Lucky is one of the most influential people in my life today.

 

[Joe Wordsworth]

Does he know this?

Oh, quite.

My Girl even told him once "you know he gets awful mushy about being your son".

: )

 

[Guest]

Oh, quite.

My Girl even told him once "you know he gets awful mushy about being your son".

: )

thats just wonnerful!

 

[rgraham666]

My father. For telling me everyday in actions and words that I wasn't worth the effort.

I've spent years fighting against that message. Still haven't succeeded completely but the end is in sight.

 

[TheEarl]

Off Joe's oration:

My father fixes things. I can remember working on technology projects with him when I was in secondary school (an infinite amount of time ago, all of 6 or 7 years!). The garage was cluttered with bits and bobs of wood and metal and screws and tools. He could very rarely find the bit or tool that he was looking for first time, but he always managed to take a little chunk of metal or wood and turn it into just the thing for the job. I hope my children can do that, because I certainly don't have that talent.

My father also sings. He'll wander round the house, singing bits from the Mikado and Ruddigore and Tom Lehrer. Quite often, I'll join in. His voice is more tuneful than mine by a long way; he used to perform as Nanki-Poo on stage for a G&S society. I wish I could sing like him.

My father listens. He listens to my wittering opinions about the England rugby/cricket/football/athletics teams, no matter how pompously garrulous I get. He listens to my mother when she gets home from work, handing her a drink and standing in the kitchen to hear the tale of her triumphs and disasters. He listens to everyone without ever getting bored. Me, I talk too much. I should try and learn to listen more.

He's climbed things, he's built houses, he's played rugby and ran races. He's sung on stage, he's commanded the respect of everyone in his field, he's shaped futures and made the world a better place for his presence. He is my hero, he is the person I want to grow up to be and in every success I have, he tells me that he's proud of me.

I love him more than the world and I will be proud if I am half the man that he is.

The Earl

 

[matriarch]

...

My father ..........

I love him more than the world and I will be proud if I am half the man that he is.

The Earl

I think you already are.

 

[Nirvanadragones]

My daughter has taught me about myself, what it means to live, and what it means to love.

 

[NoJo]

The older I get, the less people exert an infuence on me -- call it ossification or experience, whatever. Of course I'm very close to certain people still, but my days of the kind of mentoring influence that I guess feminity meant, are definitely over.

I'd have to say that the physicist Richard Feynman, whose personality was projected brilliantly in his biography "Surely You're Joking, Mr Feynman", has recently become a strong role model for me.

He taught me how to enjoy life in the eccentric lane.

 

[BlackShanglan]

Wonderful post, Og. You've got a superb gift for making real people come alive in print.

For me? Oscar Wilde. He's reshaped my life in many ways, subtle and unsubtle. His art is beautiful, but it's his thoughts and philosophy that challenge and stimulate me still. God, the man had vision.

Shanglan

 

[Bizkit_Writer]

I'd have to say well for one my mother, she taught me that I can be a strong independent woman who goes out for her dreams.

And my second would have to be my highschool teacher Mr. B he opened my eyes to math and took the time out to help his students learn more efficently and effectively and write better words on paper.