The grand tour
“The question is not what you look at, but what you see.”
Immediately following our first hug and hello the moment I met my dad, he took me into his house through the open garage to show me around. The garage entrance led into the kitchen, where I spotted russet potatoes on the counter, a Casablanca magnet on his fridge, and a percolator coffee maker. Just past the kitchen was his dining room, with a round, wooden kitchen table, and a small cabinet with a collection of antique model cars.
To the left of the dining room was the living room, with a sofa sectional, an oval glass coffee table, and a few end tables all decorated with trinkets and objects that I desperately wanted to rummage through and commit to memory.
On the walls of his living room hung an original print ad for Frank Sinatra’s first album, in an orange wooden frame. A wooden ‘D’, about a foot tall, which I immediately recognized from the walls of the photos my mom had given me from the home they shared. In the center of the largest wall, between two windows, hung a large, antique oval portrait of Marilyn Monroe.
The Wooden “D”…two examples of it hanging in my dad’s homes. Both pics circa mid-late 70’s. These are also prime examples of why we should keep out-of-focus or poorly lit images. You never know how meaningful they’ll be to someone, someday.
He led me down a hallway, pointing out a bathroom on the right, and his housemate Jimmy’s room on the left, before opening the only closed door of the corridor. It was his office, with the main focus being a large wooden corner desk. Across from this, stood a tall wooden bookshelf, though there were no books to be found there; instead, a die-cast metal car collection. Most of these were more modern, and much smaller than the collection in his dining room.
My dad’s bookshelf of model cars. I took this pic during the grand tour, May 8, 2020.
He had plaques hung on the walls from over the years of working as a car salesman, most prominently displayed: Sacramento Downtown Ford, 1995, Top Salesman, Bob Drakulic. Next to that, a pencil sketch of Sinatra and Elvis drawn by a friend.
On the wall above the right side of his desk hung a framed customized print of four Steelers jerseys hanging in the locker room - #7 Roethlisberger; #43 Polamalu, #1 Drakulic, and #86 Ward. He reached out to grab it off the wall and nearly dropped it, but caught it swiftly and reflexively. He handed it to me and said, “you take this.” I insisted that I couldn’t, that it was customized and his, but it didn’t take much more pushing before I conceded. “If I want another one I can order another one. You’re a Drakulic and I want you to have it.” Well, alright. I now realize he was ensuring his daughter was a Steelers fan for life. It worked.
I took this pic after the tour of the house concluded and we sat down to chat.
Next on the tour was his bedroom, at the very end of the hall. It was the primary room of the house, with its own bathroom and a large walk-in closet. He had a large, antique furniture set with matching bed frame, dressers and nightstands. We stood near the short, longer dresser, with a large mirror attached above, so he could show me what seemed to be the main focus of his tour - the collection of loose photographs he had stuck to the perimeter of his mirror. One by one he removed them to tell me about the people and share stories.
The very first photo was one of himself with his two brothers, my uncles, Joe and George. The rest of the photos he pulled down were all of Joe’s family; Joe’s kids, Michael and Tami; Michael’s wife, Melanie; and Mike and Mel’s kids, Calina and Jack. At this point of the tour I’d only known this man for maybe 15 minutes, but I already knew what his family meant to him. As much pride and care he took for his belongings and collections, it paled in comparison to the love that poured from him over his family.
From left to right: George, Joe, Bobby. This is the photo he had prominently displayed on his mirror. I took this picture of it after he handed it to me, not knowing he was going to insist I keep it.
When I came back to see him the next day, I asked him if I could keep one of his model cars. This was difficult for me, since everything he owned seemed to have a deliberate place, and he’d already taken the Steelers jersey print off his wall for me, but I really wanted to have a car of his. I’d kept model cars on display as a kid and into my 20’s, and now that I knew this was a Drakulic trait, I wanted one of his to put on display once I got home to Portland.
“Would you mind if I took one of your little cars?” He tenderly replied, “you can have anything you want.” Gulp. I smiled and walked down to his office, and grabbed the teal pickup truck I’d spotted during the tour the day before. I held it in my hands while I did a quick scan to make sure there wasn’t another that called out to me. Nope, the pickup was the one I wanted.
I walked back to the garage and showed him, “this is the one!” He lit up, proclaiming, “the ‘55! I have a white one just like it right here.” He reached into a box directly behind him and pulled out a dusty, identical Chevy truck, in white. He stood up and with a grin on par with mine, led me to the kitchen sink to give them a carwash.
At the time of all this, I didn’t know that he would be gone in less than six months, and that I would ultimately help clean out his house, box up his things, and take home with me anything I wanted to keep. Every car he had on display I now have. The wooden D, which he’d had for over 50 years, now hangs on my wall. The Casablanca magnet is now on my fridge. I have totes, boxes, shelves and albums to store and display his precious belongings. And those twin 55’s, which I now know are painted Ocean Green and Bombay Ivory, sit in my living room, side by side, as a reminder of my sweet and generous dad, who wanted me to have “anything I want.”
Until next Sunday,
Stephanie
P.S. The grand tour continues…enjoy some additional photos!
These are the two prints my dad had hanging on his walls. The Sinatra ad now hangs near my front door, just as it did near his.
Left photo: selfie while sitting on my dad’s couch, with the D hanging visibly in the background. Photo taken during my weeklong visit for our first and only Father’s Day together, June 2020.
Right photo: a photo I took just now of one of my shelves. The D is and will forever be a focal point in my home. At the bottom, you can see the twin ‘55 Chevy pickups.
