Simply Put- My Mother's Husband

In 1990, eight years after my father Charles Cox was killed in a car accident, my mother remarried. She married Mack Rooks, who had been a long time friend of our family. Mack and my father had become good friends in college at Troy back in the late 40’s where both played football and basketball. Both were married at the time and their families, along with Harry Howell and his family became lifelong friends.
Mack’s wife had passed away and so when he and my mom got married they did so with our full blessings. Not that they needed our blessing, but they had it and we were glad to see our mother happy again. But I must confess that as a 30 year old young man that still missed my father immensely, I could not warm up to calling Mack my step father or step dad. I meant no disrespect to Mack and in fact he told me that my dad was one of the finest men he had ever known and that he would never try to take his place in my life. So when I referred to him to other folks, I called him "my mother’s husband".
For the next 18 years we shared countless good times together. I loved to sit and listen to him tell the old stories of ball games from days gone by. He especially loved to tell the story of how his Defuniak Springs squad with Harold Donaldson at Quarterback beat his beloved Bulldogs in 1956. It was the Bulldog’s only loss that season and they were coached by his ole buddies Harry Howell and Charlie Cox. Mack joked that he never let Howell forget that game. He loved to listen to me as I would tell him about my radio broadcasting and sports writing, especially when it came to the Marianna Bulldogs. He always wanted me to give him the latest report about Bulldog athletics. He bled purple and gold.
He loved to tell me and my kids stories about my dad (and their granddad). So for 18 years I told folks that it was a great blessing when he and my mother married. And I meant it every time I said it. But I still referred to him as "my mother’s husband".
On April 22nd I, along with the rest of our family, stood around a bed and watch Mack play the final quarter of his life. While standing there I reflected on the fact that Mack had been everything I could have ever wanted in a husband for my mother. Mack had been everything I could have ever wanted in a grandfather figure for my kids. Mack had been everything I could have ever wanted in a friend. Simply Put, for 18 years Mack had been my stepfather. And I’m proud to say that I will no longer refer to him as "my mother’s husband". He will forever be my stepfather. I’ve truly been blessed in my life to have had a father like Charles Cox and a stepfather like Mack Rooks.

From the front porch: Uncle Bob said a true sports fans is one that can leave a game and ask "What Cheerleaders?"