My father fell ill thirteen months ago, and I’ve made numerous visits to see him in the hospital and nursing home. Almost every time I saw him at the nursing home, I’d bring him food from one of his favorite chicken spots – Popeyes! He would gobble it down like it was his last meal whenever I was in Connecticut. Two weeks before he passed, I got him a spicy two-piece and a biscuit, but he wanted no part. I knew then something was wrong, and the end was near.

A week after that visit, he was sent to the hospital for a sepsis infection. After his last admission to Saint Francis hospital, there was little else we could do for him due to several issues he was dealing with, and he was admitted for hospice care.

The last time I saw my father alive was on October 11. He was unresponsive, but I knew he could hear me. I told him a few things happening in my world and watched him like I’d watch my young kids years ago while they slept. I put my hand on his chest and just watched him breathe. With each breath he took, I became more at peace with his inevitable passing. At times I thought he would take his last gasp, but he kept going for two more days after I left.

My last words to him were, “I love you.” “Thank you Dad.”

He and I didn’t see eye to eye all the time, especially regarding my career choice, but in his way, he was supportive. My mother bought my first professional drum set, and my father purchased my second. He would come to see my broadway shows but was worried about my long-term career prospects. My father grew up in an era where you worked for one or two companies and retired with a pension. I understand his point of view, but that isn’t the world we live in any more. Although the longer I work in entertainment, I’m looking for a way to retire from certain aspects of this business and have access to funds I’ll never outlive. My father had a pretty nice pension from his decades working for the State of Connecticut and the City of Hartford. He did well, thanks to that pension system. I must say, I understand why taxes are so high in certain states – you all have to pay for those pensions!

While he may not have said much to me personally to show his pride in my professional achievements on Broadway, every time I’d see him at the nursing home, he’d brag to the staff, “THIS IS MY SON.” “He’s the one who plays drums on Broadway shows.” I could tell how he felt about me and my accomplishments. He was proud of me even though he never said it out loud.

But look, I’d argue with him quite often about my career choice.

It all started in 1984 when I wanted to attend Berklee College of Music. He wouldn’t support my decision to attend Berklee because of all the accounting jobs at the time. I remember him unfolding the local newspaper and displaying the massive list of career options at my fingertips. I was pretty upset and held onto that anger for decades. I guess my father never understood why anyone would want to pursue a career that brought so much joy into the lives of others through music.

After graduation, I followed in my sisters’ footsteps and attended an HBCU (Howard University). I studied business. I was not too fond of it. In fact, I HATED IT!!! Every day I walked into the School of Business, I was surrounded by people with whom I had little common interest. I couldn’t wait to get out of class every day and hang with people in the School of Fine Arts.

I received terrible grades and barely earned my degree – but I got A’s in any music elective I took. After a few years, I was the section leader of the marching band’s drum section. Go figure. But to his credit, I was able to use that degree to support myself during my first few years after moving to New York City. My business acumen has also allowed me to think more like a businessman and not a musician who was happy to play the drums.

I tried my hand working in corporate America and found it repulsive and fake. I quit cold turkey in 1998 and rarely looked back. Ever since then, my father has been wondering when I would get a ‘real job’ again. The truth is, I’ve had several of them. Jobs that paid me handsomely to play the drums. Jobs that offered health insurance and a pension to boot!

There are things we admire about our parents and elements we’d like to emulate. Others we take note of and disregard. I learned a lot from my father, who lived a long and fulfilling life. Writing this obituary (with the help of my sister) was interesting to me because my father wrote much of it before he died. He touched many people and was well-known in the Hartford community. He listed his accomplishments, the organizations he belonged to, and the places he worked.

Over the past week or so, I’ve begun to re-think much of what I’m doing. I realize that my community has been on Broadway, and I know many people, but the older I get, the more I’d like to be part of organizations that have a broader impact. And I wonder what will be in my obituary. What contributions will I make to help others? What legacy will I leave behind?

My father wasn’t perfect. None of us are. There are people we may piss off, anger, upset, disappoint, and may never speak to again. That’s just part of life. I am hoping I put more positive energy into the world than negative. Maybe one day, my kids (or wife if she is still alive in the year 2066 when I die) will write an obituary as exceptional as my father’s.

 

Roy Craddock III, 87, of Manchester, beloved husband of the late Rosalyn L. Craddock, went to be with the Lord on Thursday, October 13, 2022, at Glastonbury Health Care. 

Roy was born on August 3,1935 in Eufaula, AL, the son of the late Roy Craddock II and the late Elizabeth (Grimes) Craddock. He is predeceased by his sister Eunice Jones of Hanover, MD.

Roy grew up in Hartford and was a graduate of Weaver High School. He attended the U.S. Air Force Accounting School, Central Connecticut State University, Hartford Institute of Accounting, Hillyer College and Morse School of Business. Roy served in the Air National Guard from 1957 to 1960, married Rosalyn Early Lee on May 21, 1961, started a family in Bloomfield, and later settled in Manchester, CT. 

Roy went to work for the City of Hartford Finance Department State of Connecticut Lab. In 1963, he became the first Black manager at the University of Connecticut School of Social Work, where he remained until 1970. Roy worked as the Director of Business Services at the Greater Hartford campus from 1970 until his retirement in 2000. 

Roy owned and operated Roy Craddock Tax Service from 1960 until 2008. Roy was an active member of Union Baptist and Shiloh Baptist Churches, where he served as treasurer, trustee, and finance advisor at Shiloh Church in Hartford. Roy served as an officer in the greater Hartford NAACP during the 1960s. Roy was also a member of several professional associations, including the National Association of Black Accountants, the National Association of Tax Preparers, and The Urban League of Greater Hartford.

He was a Corporate Board Member of Hartford Neighborhood Centers, a member of the Connecticut Council of Black Students and Professionals in Higher Education, the National Planning Committee (AAHE), and served on the Majority Retreat Planning Committee – Higher Education. He was instrumental in helping to integrate the Hartford and Bloomfield schools during the 1960s and 1970s. During that time, he served as a member of the Bloomfield retirement committee and represented the town of Bloomfield when it won an All-American City award in 1970. 

While living in Manchester, he served on the Manchester Human Relations Committee in 1975. 

He leaves to mourn his three children, Cynthia Craddock of Chicopee, MA, Cheryl Craddock of Holyoke, MA, and Clayton Craddock of The Bronx, NY, and his grandchildren, Sahaar and Naseem Craddock both of New York City. Also, he leaves a host of cousins, nieces, nephews and dear friends. Roy will be remembered as a hardworking husband, father, brother, grandfather, and community leader. 

His family will receive friends on Saturday, October 29, 2022, from 9-10 a.m., at the Union Baptist Church, 1921 Main St., Hartford. A funeral service will follow at the church beginning at 10 a.m. Burial will follow at East Cemetery in Manchester. 

Samsel & Carmon Funeral Home in South Windsor has care of the arrangements. For online condolences, please visit www.carmonfuneralhome.com.