I would like to thank my Mom Pat Ferrari for everything. I love you mom!

Many of you knew my Dad, Cal, as a friend, teacher, coach, or relative.  To me I knew him as my Hero. To understand this you all must realize he was a descendant of heroes. My Father Calvin R Ferrari was named after his dad’s brother Calvin C  Ferrari who was a fighter pilot shot down over occupied Germany during WW2 and was a Prisoner of War. After hearing this news, my grandfather Frank immediately enlisted in the army and upon returning home from the War, he passed a way a few years later from injuries he received during combat.  They both received the Purple Heart medal of Honor. 

So at the young age of 5 my father was put into the position of being the man of the house.  From an early age he took this role in stride and moved forward off the incredible strength and courage of my late grandmother Adelle.  They talked every single day and had quite a special bond together.  During his high school years my grandmother Adelle broke her ankle as was out of work.  He took on two jobs to support the family.  Cal was such a selfless, non materialistic person and has made so many sacrifices for the people he loved.

Shortly after my parents married they moved to Sugarloaf. Where my dad yearned for the simple life and to live amongst nature.  He was super content raising a family and tending to his garden--cherry tomatoes, bell peppers, fruit trees, strawberry patches, concord grape vines and blueberry bushes.  He would spend hours meticulously and methodically tending to these crops every year during his summer vacation. Shortly their after in 1981 his most prized crop sprouted up….Me.  I was someone whom he dedicated such a large part of his life to. My earliest memories of my dad were that of him coming home from teaching school.  I would wait would wait anxiously for him by the window.  He would come walking up the steps; I would take a running start from the kitchen jumping off the top step, him catching me halfway.  I remember being so happy to see him.  Back then he seemed larger than life, big and strong and absolutely invincible.  But at the same time also had such a warm, endearing, cuddly, inviting nature to him.  You would always feel welcome and wanted around my dad. 

Early on in grade school he didn’t like how long it took the school bus to get me to and from school.  From that day on he and my mom would go out of their way to drop me off and pick me up.  I got really tired of listening to soft rock MAGIC 93 and Frankie in the morning.

My Dad always gave such good advice and possessed an incredible level of common sense.  He had the ability to think things out long before they happened and could somehow often predict the future.  He infused into my brain so many of life’s important lessons.  He always told me that all he ever wanted from me was to make him proud and to always do my best.  Do things the right way.  Up to this day, I have strived to meet those expectations.  This has been my what has motivated me and will continue to motivate me moving forward.

My Dad was ALWAYS there for me. He was like my second set of eyes and ears.  He was soooo loving, caring and affectionate. Once in a while we had our own Theo Huxtible moments.  And from time to time I made some mistakes, boy did I make some mistakes.  Afterwards, when I felt down and out and didn’t think I could go forward.  He was right their to pick me up…. EVERY…. SINGLE….. TIME; dusting me off, and guiding me back on track--- he was my emotional rock. You see my dad taught me that a man is not judged by how hard he falls, but rather how fast he gets up.

Cal dedicated his life to education, to the service and the betterment of others.  He carried himself with high integrity, honor, and dignity.  During the day the classroom was his stage, helping his students visualize, learn and understand different concepts. He demanded excellence from his students and would go out of his way to find ways to get the best out of each pupil he came in contact with. In the evenings he turned to Athletic Directing and coaching some of these same kids through sport competitions.   You see my father was very competitive, but often measured athletic success not by wins and losses, but by the way his team played the game.   My dad always had that loud gym class voice even when he wasn’t in the gym.  People often thought he was screaming, but that was just how he talked.  I could see him taking the attendance roll right now.

I remember having my dad as a sex/ed health teacher in junior high school.  There is only one word that can describe this.  Awkward. He started by just popping in a movie and leaving the classroom.  I remember acting up early on in the class, he picked me up, took me to the nearby closet, and hung me their by the exterior tag on my shirt.  I still remember the definition of health that he drilled into my head - a complete state of mental, social, and physical well being; not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.  I still don’t exactly know what infirmity means.  

After high school we hit a lil bit of a crossroads.  My dad really wanted me to move into the other house we had nextdoor, stay close and go to college locally.  I remember having a long talk with him. I said I wanted move to a big city for business opportunities and to see what was out there.  He made me promise to call him often and keep him updated on what I was up to.  12 years later we spoke almost every day on the phone.  That’s what I will really miss the most.  As I grew from a country mouse to a city dweller, he would always make sure I continued to hold my small town values in place.  We shared many things in common--this included the love for new technology and gadgets, computers, Sport Utility Vehicles and Jeeps, hating to wear neck ties, and especially Penn State football.  During the 90s we would travel week after week to state college with my dad and grandfather Jim “Gassy” Horn to tailgate and attend the games.  After that, we would watch the games on TV in different cities, but talk for quarters at a time on the phone during the contest.  Game after game we would so easily predict Joe Paterno’s play calling.  Vividly remember my dad yelling into the phone…. Hes gonna run it up the middle, don’t run it up the middle Joe, everyone knows it, don’t do it.  And then of course it happened.  

My dad, J he loved to chill, had a wonderful sense of humor and was good company--family or friends, a ball game on TV, a soda or sometimes jack and coke, that was his happy place.  He taught me to stop and enjoy the simple things in life.

Being the rural country person that my dad was he never quite grasped the convenience of taxicab service.  As I traveled I never wanted to park my car at the airport.  He always offered to drive 2 hours to pick me up, drive me ten minutes to the airport, then drive 2 hours home.  That was my dad.

Our last extended conversation was Wednesday night.  We would talk weather and sports everyday.  However, that day we talked most about that new planet 600 light years away….Keplar 22b.  How it could potentially sustain life and the future possibility one day of intergalactic travel.  I could imagine he is headed there right now to check things out.

Over the past few months he let me know often about how he felt about my mom and me.  He would talk openly about how his time here was short, and I would always try to change the subject.  2 weeks ago he told me he had a dream he read his own obituary in the newspaper.  Recently he told me—Son…I love you so much and Im very proud of how you carry yourself and the professional man you have become.  Deep down I could tell he was satisfied and very content that he had done his job.

He said your gonna be the man of the house soon.  Take care of your mother and never stop chasing your dreams. I have realized my dad prepared us our whole life for his passing.  Even though my father’s earthly body sits cremated right here before us, my mom and I now have a deeper understanding that it is his spirit that will stay alive forever.

God bless and thank you.