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My dad in Skagway, Alaska.
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| In front of his home in Arcadia, CA. |
This site, dedicated to my family's history, is usually filled with accounts of relatives who passed away long, long ago. Unfortunately, today's entry is dedicated to my father, Karl Michael De Haven, who passed away in his sleep just last Friday on February, 5th, 2021. He was just a couple months short of his 85th birthday.
Born in 1938 as the second child of Jim Hartley and Urania (Rainie) Larson (daughter of Edith Feero), my dad’s life kind of got off to a rough start actually. Unfortunately for the family, Karl’s birth father Jim turned out to have an alcohol problem and was apparently abusive. The final straw was when, while drunk, he shot a gun off, narrowly missing hitting Urania in the stomach while she was pregnant with my father. Urania then left Jim and soon after (how soon is hard to calculate) married Vernon De Haven. Some time later Jim came back to try and take back his firstborn daughter Joyce but was prevented from doing so. He was allowed to visit the kids once on the condition that he not reveal that he was the children’s father. Although Joyce disputes that Jim didn’t want Karl, my father still mentioned the pain of this perceived rejection toward the end of his life. He also expressed great gratitude that his step-father (who he called “Tex”) had saved the family from a horrible situation. (Interestingly, Tex first dated Urania’s sister Ellen for a time) His grandfather Karl (his namesake) also did well to prevent Jim from taking back the kids. (Actually, because he shared his name with his grandfather, my father was called by his middle name “Mike” inside the immediate family)
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| My dad with his sister Joyce in Skagway. |
After a few years in Skagway, my father and his family moved to Anchorage where Tex worked for Alaska Railroad. By then he had two little brothers (by Tex); Roy and Pat. After getting kicked out of University of Alaska Fairbanks (for, as my dad described it, “being at the wrong party”) he made his way to University of Western Kentucky where he would graduate with a BA. (He also later obtained an MA from USC) To support himself through college he worked at fish canneries in Alaska. Eventually after working as a surveyor (for the military building bases),a forrest ranger, and some other odd jobs he started his career as a teacher. It was as a teacher at Ursa Major Elementary School where he was introduced by his best friend Charlie to his future wife (my mother) Mary Hennessy. The two married in 1967 and then made the long trek down the Great Alaska Highway to her native Southern California (she was originally from Long Beach).
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| My dad and mom at their wedding (1967). |
The couple first settled in Mission Viejo but were unable to find teaching positions close by. Tired of the long commute to Pasadena (where my dad taught) and Arcadia (where my mom taught) they moved to Arcadia, where they remained for good. By then, my brother (who was born while they were living in Mission Viejo) and I (born in Pasadena after the move to Arcadia) were in the picture and our family (plus or minus many cats and one poodle) was complete.
My dad would end up teaching science and math in Madison Middle School in the inner city for many years before moving on to Wilson Middle School (located much closer to Arcadia, just over the border in neighboring Pasadena). He was also extremely active in the MESA program at Cal State LA. The MESA program helps educationally underprivileged kids excellent at math, engineering, and science, helping many become the first in their family to go on to college. In the summers, my dad would also teach oceanography at Baldwin Stocker Elementary in Arcadia. This was where I had the unusual opportunity to be a student in my dad’s class. His influence on his students was great. For many, many years, it seemed that we would run into his former students working somewhere. To them, he was always know as “Mr. D.”
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One of my father's school portraits.
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As a person, my dad was a very friendly, talkative guy. As my aunt described, to him there were no strangers, only friends he hadn’t yet met. As a child, this habit of him striking up conversations with any and everyone could be sometimes embarrassing (I later heard that his mother was the same way). We often joked in the family, that someday he might accidentally start a conversation with a serial killer with a line like, “That’s a nice knife you’ve got there.” He was good natured and loving, never hesitating to express his feelings for me whenever I called him up from Japan. He also loved to laugh. His favorite tv show of all time was probably MASH. At night, while typing his lesson plans out he would watch the show from 11 to 12, his “holy hour” as he called it. He was a bit clumsy (although he was a very good bowler for many years, winning trophies while in Alaska) and sometimes sloppy with his clothing (mom did her best to keep him looking good). He was also an excellent cook, preparing almost all of our meals at home and only relinquishing the kitchen when grandma Rainie would come to visit. I often remember him falling asleep snoring in front of the tv only to wake up when I would change the channel. "Snore-snort, I was watching that." He was horrible with names, often confusing Hershiser with Kershaw when talking to me about the Dodgers ("Dad, Orel has been retired for like 20 years!").
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| Karl bowling as a youth. |
As a father, he made sure to take my brother and I to the kind of events his father never took him to. He took my brother many times to see the Dodgers in Chavez Ravine and helped out with his little league team (I was horrible in sports and lasted only one season in t-ball). He took both of us to the LA Olympics in 1984. My brother lucked out by going to a soccer game. I was taken to the much more difficult to understand archery (can you name one famous archer besides Robin Hood??). Still, it was a great memory. Later in life, as I got into pro-sports, I would end up taking him to many hockey, baseball, soccer, and basketball games. Toward the end however, with his decreased mobility, it just became too hard to take him to a game whenever I visited from Japan, leaving me to go alone unfortunately.
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| My brother, dad, and I after little league. |
Sometimes, my dad wasn’t the best at speaking clearly. One funny memory was when we were in the car as a family and he noted that he once had two dogs named “Peanuts and Popcorn” except every time he said peanuts, it sound like “penis.” Surprised by his choice of a name, I kept on asking him “did you really name your dog penis?” He would say yes and repeat the name while mispronouncing it. The more I asked to confirm, the more my mother would laugh, making him angrier because he didn’t understand what was so funny. I think the misunderstanding got cleared up when I asked him to spell it out.
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| Karl with one of his dogs. |
Retired life wasn’t too kind to my dad. A myriad of health problems (back, legs, shoulder, heart) limited his mobility, eventually forcing him to live the last six to seven years of his life at a rehab facility. across from Santa Anita race tract in Arcadia, just a few minutes from his house. I would have loved to have him visit me in Japan. It would have been great to see how he would react to such a foreign place and have the chance to see a baseball game in Japan. I also really wish he could have spent more time with his grandchildren. The distance and cost worked against us there. We were able to bring over Yuzuru, my first born, three times and Fumi, my second, once but because of the pandemic, my dad was robbed of a chance to meet his granddaughter Willow (born last February). Damn that virus. Although it’s nice to think he is watching down on her now I would have loved to capture the expression on his face when he was able to meet her in person.
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My dad with his first grandson, Yuzuru.
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| My dad with Fumito, his second grandson. |
He was a great father, husband, and person that I and many people will miss dearly. He is survived by his wife, Mary, his two sons, John (JP) and Shawn (myself), his older sister, Joyce, younger brother, Pat, and his three grandchildren (Yuzuru Alistair (5), Fumito Sebastian (4), and Sumire Willow (11 months)). If you have a story to share about him I’d love it if you share it in the comments section.
