Author of Father of the Man Dr. Peter L. Colman

‘Father of the Man’
A Journey toward Reconciliation
By Peter L. Colman


Not every young boy is privileged to have two dads. My own father, for reasons which I fear I understand too well, left home in 1956 when I was eight-years-old. Dad, Mom and I were living at 352 Manchester Street, in a fairly spacious old apartment on the second floor. The building was covered with brown tar-paper siding, had a small wooden back porch, and a steep staircase descending to a tiny patch of grass at the dead end of a paved alley below. This was my turf, where I played ‘circus strongman,’ (usually right after the circus had come to town) and ‘Superman,’ tying one of my mother’s pink towels around my neck, running and jumping (sometimes from the garage), feet first, arms thrust forward, fully expecting to leave the ground.

My friends and I (one was a pretty girl named Jocelyn) caused quite a commotion in that neighborhood. But without fail, just when it seemed we were having the most fun, an elderly gentleman would manage to appear on the second story porch next door, barking threats. He terrified me…and I was Superman! Maybe he didn’t see the cape.



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