My Old Man

I decided I wanted to write something about my father Ben Stephens who passed away on 4th September 2003. He was born in Kudat on 3rd July 1926 (seems like a long time ago).

My clearest early recollection (a painful one) of him was when he was Resident in Sandakan, in the early 70's. I must of been 3 or 5 years old at that time. He was taking my brothers John and Mike (5 & 7 years older respectively) hunting wild boar and I was excluded being too young. I showed my displeasure by jumping up and down when I realized the Land Rover dad was driving started reversing back into the garage. He got out, said a few expletive I will not repeat and took off his crocodile skin belt (a tool of choice for disciplining in our household) in the same motion and started chasing me. In the past all I had to do was run to mum (being the youngest) to be spared, but mum wasn't home. If anything it taught me a few things;

• Never again to make a fuss as I must now admit I was a bit of brat
• Martial Arts blocking technique - the belt came in all direction it was up to us to cover the vital parts
• take cover behind a suitcase
• Run faster then dad (John did a good job, Mike wasn't as quick so he got more than his fair share)
• the reason my siblings hid dad's favorite crocodile skin belt

After he decided I got the message, he drove off with the boys. Personally I think John and Mike must of enjoyed it because I used to get away with everything and I finally got nailed for once.

The Sandakan period had one of the best memories for me. Sunday mass without fail then Sunday brunch. The best Dim Sum ever and best food Sandakan can offer. The parties that mum and dad used to throw outdoors with the color lights, and the glamor of it, we of cause were locked inside the house. John always managed to get our sugar fix with the aerated drinks. I was too young to appreciate the political going ons at the time but Sabah was in turmoil with my uncle Tun Fuad Stephens (Uncle Don to me) being a main player. But that is another story.

Dad never liked caged birds. He tried tellings us why but got too emotional rendering it, and I never understood so I just accepted it. Later I found out it had something to do with his dad advice, who was executed during World War II in Petagas as part of the Kinabalu Guerrilla.

As we became adults especially in his later years he became more of a good friend then a father. He enjoyed sharing his twisted and most times very tasteless humour with the family which I may have inherited.

He taught me a great deal being a father, you don't have to be perfect but we were always loved and he passed down the faith (we were very Catholic). He was a good listener, it only got confusing when he tried advising me!! One of his favorite pass time was to clean his dentures at the dinning table. One of the best advice he gave me was when I was going to the US for my tertiary education and did not know what to major. I ask him what I should do as I was in a state of panic and he replied "don't worry it will come to you." We then went out for some crabs!

The funny thing is even the frightening experiences with dad has become a very pleasant and happy memory of him,  so God Bless Dad!!!