Eighteen Months Under One Roof with the Man Who Taught Me Discipline

On this episode of Our American Stories, when Bob McLalan let his recently divorced father crash on his couch, he expected a few days of awkward conversation. Instead, his dad arrived with an empty key ring, a suitcase, and the stubborn confidence of a man who still saw himself in command. What followed was eighteen months of two Marines trying to share a small apartment and figure out what respect looks like when both men believe they have earned it.

Bob’s story captures what living with parents can feel like when you are grown, independent, and suddenly navigating the weight of old habits and new circumstances.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:11):
And we continue here on our American stories. And now
it's time for another installment of the McClellan Files, where
we go deep inside the life of Bob McClellan, someone
you don't know, but whose life and whose voice well
you're sure to be captivated by. And today Bob, who's
a marine, shares a story about his dad, who also

(00:35):
happens to be a marine.

Speaker 2 (00:41):
After getting my dad settled in the living room for
a short visit after my parents' divorce, my father and
I sat on the cosh to have a beer and
watch some TV. Sitting next to him, I notice how
much he aged. His six foot two inch frame, combined
with his broad shoulders and chest, gave no hint that

(01:02):
he had lost any of his power, But he was
heavier and softer. His hair was graying, and the creases
in his face were deeper. As he leaned forward on
the couch to reach his beard and cigarettes. I had
to admire how formidable he still looked. He was aware
of what was happening to him, but he didn't care.

(01:22):
He had no interest in prolonging a life that he
felt had exhausted its excitement and purpose. He'd become bored
there were no more wars to fight, no more women
to love or children to raise. Left without these, his
passion for life was diminished, and his interest in life
had become lackluster. So he saw no sense in prolonging it.

(01:44):
Life had become a still photo rather than a motion picture.
His coming to a visit instilled some real anxiety in me.
I knew what to expect from him, and as the
chain of commander of the hierarchy in his growing up,
it would be like that here. He'd want it that
way in his house or under his command. He was

(02:06):
like a giant redwood tree and very little groves underneath
those trees. They are so big they gather all the
sunlight for themselves. He was used to giving orders and
having them followed. But now I was twenty six years old.
I was a former marine and a senior in college,
and I'd been living on my own and taking care

(02:26):
of myself for the last eight years. Coming to visit
my home it would be my dad's turn. It would
be his turn to move over. My father would tell
us boys that the changing of command from father to
son would be inevitable. Let me tell you something, kid,

(02:51):
and a day will come when you're not gonna want
to do what I tell you to do, and on
that day, you're going to leave, because if I lose
control to one of you, I won't be able to
control of the other two. That day came when I
was eighteen. I blocked a doorway that he was trying
to pass through on his way to the kitchen. I
stood in the doorway and my chest really expanded. I

(03:16):
thrust it in front of him. We said, face to face,
looking into each other's eyes. He said, so you think
you're ready to take on your old man now, I
say that what this little display of yours is all about, Well,
let me tell you something. In my age, I don't
care anymore about winning or losing. What you need to

(03:37):
know is I'm not going to go easy. I'm going
to get a piece of you, even if I have
to bite it off. You're not going to get out
of this pain free. You need to think about whether
it's worth it to you. Staring into his unblinking metallic
blue gray eyes, I thought over what he said and decided, Yeah,

(03:58):
it's time to step ae. Let my father go on
his way. My father knew that the key weapon and
intimidation is that just a pinprick of doubt will burst
the overinflated balloon of self confidence. Living in San Francisco
in nineteen seventy four was very different than the life

(04:18):
on the farm my father led as a young man.
Life in the city was about freedom and audacity, not
regulation and authority. There was nothing that was clean or sterile.
Order was not part of the day's routine, and traditional roles, well,
traditional roles and values were best left back in your hometown.

(04:42):
My roommate returned from work after two am the night
my father arrived and joined us at the kitchen table
for a drink. Sitting around the kitchen table, my father
reached into his pocket and produced an empty key ring.
Tossing it on to the table, he said, look at that,
something you don't see every day, an empty key ring.

(05:04):
No more house, no more office, no more car. I
left with only my suitcase, barely. Yeah, of course I
had already given away all my clothes. It was very
little to pack. At least she didn't throw them out
in the street or the driveway like she used to do.
She can have it all, including the car payments, house payments,

(05:25):
electrical bill, and all that crap that goes with those things.
I had my suitcase and that's all I want. I
went overseas with far less. The night after my dad's arrival,
I invited my girlfriend a couple of friends over and
meet him. Sitting around the kitchen table having a few

(05:46):
drinks was an easy way to introduce my father. Sharing
drinks at a bar around a table, talking that was
his element. After everyone bibed a few pops, he answered
questions about his life and he started to tell a
story about his time in the military police. I looked
over at my girlfriend sitting next to me, and I

(06:07):
started to run my fingers through her hair. I commented
to her about how beautiful she looked. She didn't respond
or to pay any attention to me, as she seemed fascinated
by the story. A phone call from a hotel to
the Kingston Police asking for help. The desk clerk at

(06:29):
a local hotel reported that a woman was with a
marine upstairs in her room, screaming, you murderer, Oh my god,
you murderer. The door was locked and bolted on the inside,
and the hotel clerk was afraid of what he might
find inside. He wanted the MPs and the police to
come immediately, he continued in the hall. We get hear
sobbing inside the room, but there were no other noises.

(06:52):
We pound it on the door, so she screamed, you murderer,
you animal. Help help whipped our weapons right out the safety,
pulled the hammer back, and I heard my body back
and shouldered it into the door to get it open,
and the three of us sploded into the room with
our guns searching for a target. With our weapons locked unloaded,
we clickly surveyed the room but found no one other

(07:15):
than the sobbing woman sitting alone on the edge of
the bed. She raised her arms. He's in there, she said,
as she pointed to the bathroom. He's in there. I
ordered the other two in piece to cover the door.
As I burst into the bathroom, looking down the barrel
of my forty five, I only saw a drunken Marine
sitting on the floor in my gun sights, sitting between

(07:36):
the toilet and the wall with his arm around the
back of the water pike. He looked up at me
and with a smile on his face, he waved his
arm and said hi, yes, serge, and we all had
our guns pointed at him. Until we realized he was
unarmed and certainly too drunk to stand up. I demanded
to know what the hell's going on here? Marine? With

(07:58):
his free arm, the marine pointed inside the toilet bowl
and said look, and we all leaned forward to peer
into the bowl. Into our amazement, there was a small
orange duckling the couple had won in a local fair,
swimming around the inside of the bowl. The drunk marine said,
watch this serge. With the arm around the water pipe,

(08:20):
he reached up and pulled the cord on the water closet.
The sound of a flush unleast a torn a screen
from a woman in the room. As the water was
sucked down the drain, the duck caught in the whirlpool
started swimming faster and faster against the suction of the

(08:41):
vortex in an effort to stay afloat the faster the
water drain, the faster that duck paddled. In spite of
his struggle to paddle fast enough though to keep him
from being flushed down the drain. He was eventually sucked
down the drain and disappeared. The bathroom became quiet as
the bull started to refill. Mystified, all eyes remained transfixed

(09:05):
on the now empty and quiet bowl, which had just
swallowed the duckling. Jesus Christ, Maman, what the hell are
you doing here? He said, he demanded. Marine just sat
there next to the toilet, laughing so hard he could
care less about the prospect that he was going to
be arrested and hauled off to the brig. The woman

(09:25):
in the other room, she just continued sobbing about her
boyfriend's cruelty until the water refilled the bowl. When the
water level was restored and the toilet bowl quieted down
out of the depth of the drain, the duck suddenly
popped up and continued to paddle around in his porcelain
pond as if nothing had happened. Mister crowd sat around

(09:50):
the table laughing. A friend approached and asked, Hey, is
the coolest smoke some pot? I mean, I know your
dad was a marine and military policeman and all that,
but is he cool? The reality of cultural and generational
clash became real clear to me. Now. If I could

(10:10):
have imagined at that moment that his few days visit
would turn into his becoming my roommate for the next
eighteen months, I would have thrown all his clothes out
on the driveway and bottom a one way bus ticket
back to my mom.

Speaker 1 (10:26):
And you and listening to Bob mcleollen and what a storyteller.
And we look forward to more from Bob mclellen. It's
the mclellen Files again, The mclellen Files. Bob McLellan's story,
his father's story. Here on our American Stories.