Passing

This note is dedicated to my father-in-law, David W. Benson. He passed away November 16th, 2006 in Topeka, Kansas at the age of 84 years. He was a strong Black man who lived his life the best he could, although not perfectly. He divorced my husband's mother when Donald (my husband) was 3 years old and he & his son had a strained relationship most of his life.

David was a very hard worker with goals to advance his life. Considering the era into which he was born, what he did achieve was amazing! He spent 50 years as a server at a private supper club and became a legend in not only the capitol city of Kansas, but also with legislators, governors and sports figures whom he served all that time. When he retired, the sitting Govenor of Kansas, Bill Graves, was at his retirement party. When he died there were several articles in the paper on the impact he made on his patrons lives. He had an incredible memory and once you placed an order with him, he never forgot it down to the smallest detail. He was also immacualte, his manners impeccable and was one of the early role models of his generation.

For 35 years he also worked for Bank IV and retired as a Vice-President of Purchasing, although his first love was serving people. He would sometimes still lend a hand to executive dinners at the bank and was proud to do so. He was involved in the community and volunteered with the American Diabetes Association, a local hospital and belonged to the Topeka Downtown Optimists for many years where is was a past president.

But then there were the struggles. My husband and his two brothers were unfortunately exposed to all the bitterness a divorce can bring. I know my husband felt abandoned by his Dad and when he married a woman with two daughters, he felt that they had much more of his father's attention than he did. There were times that my husband describes waiting for his Dad and he wouldn't show up, of not feeling liked or accepted by his wife, and always being exposed to the negative comments of his mother.

My husband was also embarrassed his father was a waiter. Remember my husband was a product of his era too. Civil rights were being challenged (Donald and his brothers went to school with Linda Brown of Brown vs. the Board of Education) and old stereotypes were being knocked down by young, proud Black men & women. Being a waiter was being part of the old separate and unequal system that bowed down to the White Man. My husband would not take me to the supper club he father worked at until many years after I married him!

There were events David would invite us to that Donald declined to attend, his retirement party from the North Star Supper Club was one. If only we could go back and share that acheivement and recognition with him, but there is no going back. Donald did visit his Dad, help him with his yard work, watch his house when he was out of town. He did love his father. They could talk about Sports and both were KU fans, but they couldn't talk about loving each other or things that had happened in the past to separate them.

During the last year and a half of his life, David was in declining mental and physical health. We had moved to California so didn't see David as much but our oldest son kept an eye on him. Shortly before his birthday in August 2005 he got upset and left home. We found him staying in an empty house next to his cousin in unhealthy living conditions and admitted him to the hospital. He was diagnosed with dementia as well as his other chronic illnesses and he agreed to enter a nursing home. We had hoped this would be temporary but as he declined we knew it would be permanent. In the meantime his wife sold one house and rented out the other and moved to another state with her daughter. She refused to communicate with my husband and continued to do so right up until David died. Neither she nor her daughters attended David's funeral. We have no idea where the things David worked for so hard went and he died with nothing.

Now my husband and I are the older generation. We have no more living parents and have to face our own mortality. We know that ultimately you take nothing with you from this world, but we would like to leave our children and grandchildren the knowledge that we did the best we could, and above all else, we love them.