H. Payson Brickley. Known to his many friends as “Pace.” My dad. Not sure why I waited seven years writing a piece about him. But I guess it’s because our relationship, while loyal and loving? Was at the same time complex. A mixed bag. He was one unique character. As many will attest to … what the following will confirm.
Payson Brickley was a leader during all his ninety years here. Captain of the U of Penn basketball team in 1939. President of many prestigious organizations. “Driven” by whatever he chose to become involved in. Authentic. A real character! Wow! Was he ever. Dad was a truth teller. Direct. Here’s one of the many of what we labeled “Pacisms” He hated Princeton. Penn’s archrival. “You can always tell Princeton guy… but you can’t tell him much.”
And there was this one … “That guy was such a dope! He couldn’t hit the floor if he fell out of bed. And Pace couldn’t stand a guy who wore shorts with black socks! Getting the picture?
He loved TV shows about war. Like “Victory at Sea” He and I watched the Friday night fights every week. Dad loved the show “Paladin” starring Richard Boone. But ask him to watch anything sentimental or romantic? “Phooey! That’s for sissies!”
He was a fighter. Heard him say often … “I’ll knock his block off!”
Simply, dad was overly outspoken. The phrase under his picture in his prep school yearbook … “Full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” Of course, Pace’s reaction.
“That bastard Al Dash!” (You guessed it.) “I’ll knock his block off!”
But then there was this. Dad always looked out for the little guy. Mathew 25:40 … Reminds us to serve “the least of these.” Meaning the poor. The disadvantaged. Pace had originally wanted to become an Episcopal priest. Most find this hard to believe. But with all that “bluster” he was the perfect guy you wanted in your foxhole, wanted to enter the arena with. No one could have a more loyal, dedicated friend. He loved jokes. Was great at telling them. Heard many so times from his many friends … “Just love your dad’s jokes!”
He always said to me, “Bobby, always be yourself.” No airs. Humility above all. Never forgot his words. Just one of the many life lessons dad taught me. Integrity above all.
I said I’d give a little more about Payson Brickley, the character. So, a few stories.
Number One…
Pace used to ride the Paoli local train into Philadelphia every morning. Had to park his car in a lot with fifty spaces. Eighty cars shoved in the lot each day. Packed in like olives in a jar. He returned one evening after a very tough day at work. Perspiring heavily, in need of a cold beer. When he got to his car, he noticed the auto next to his driver side was parked inches from the door. No way Pace could open the door and drive away. Bright idea. Why not go over to the passenger side. Slide across to the driver seat and depart. No harm done.
But that’s not Pace. Not the guy “full of sound and fury.”
He crawled over the top of the hood of his car. And with a mighty grunt of satisfaction reached out, gripped the aerial on the car parked next to his … and ripped it off the top off the hood. Leaving an open “wound” to greet the owner. This was Pace at his finest.
Number Two…
As I said earlier, Dad was a loyal Penn guy. He was awarded the Alumni Award of Merit for his effort raising money for the Ringe Squash Courts. At the time, the premier squash complex in the Northeast. This gave him access to top shelf tickets to sporting events at the college.
So, one Saturday dad proudly told my brother and me, “Hey guys I have front row seats for us at the Penn Relays. A renowned, annual track meet featuring the premier track stars in the US. As we stepped down to the front row that morning, I noticed there were people already in our seats. And immediately thought, “This outa be good. Wait til Pace gets a whiff of this?” He did. Two very large African American gentlemen looked up as dad pulled his ticket stubs out, glared at both these guys and “diplomatically” suggested, “You’re in my seats! (Could have added …” You a — holes!” … but thank God didn’t.) In a combative tone that should have triggered fisticuffs! The black guy on the end looked up at Pace and rather defiantly said, “Hey, are you asking me? Or are you telling me?”
Now Pace was always a smart guy. Photographic memory. Could have been a big winner on one of those big money TV quiz shows … like “The $64,000 Question.” Usually had answers for most things. He didn’t disappoint here.
He looked our intruder square in the eye. Even leaning in and said, “If you get out of my seats, I’m asking you. If you don’t, I’m telling you.” Stunned or impressed by dad’s nimble reply? Both these huge black guys lifted themselves out of our seats. We had a great day together. Just another “Paceism” to put in the books.
Can’t resist … one more.
Number Three…
When I was ten, we lived on a street with lots of kids. Speed limit was 20mph. But drivers routinely ignored the signs and would speed by … at 35 sometimes 40mph.
What didn’t they know? There was a “guardian at the gate.” The enforcer. H.Payson Brickley. Dad would sit on our small front porch just salivating. Waiting for the next speeder to race by. When he cited one of these poor, unfortunate suckers?
They were greeted with this thunderous outcry. “SLOW DOWN!!!!” Pace’s fury had struck again. I saw drivers jump in their seats. Listen to their teeth rattle as they gasped from the blast. Every driver Pace drilled slowed instantly. To 5-10 mph.
Then one Sunday, Easter Sunday in fact … one poor sucker raced by. Pace unloaded. But instead of slowing down, he jammed his breaks on. Screeched to a stop. And got out of his car looking for the jackass who had screamed “SLOW DOWN!!!” That’s all he had to do. Here comes Pace.
Dad picked up a crowbar from our garage and walked out toward this guy. A few words were exchanged. Pace turned to walk away. Then this from this poor unfortunate sap.
“If you take those glasses off, I’ll beat hell out of you.”
Obviously, this guy must have had an IQ of 6. Here’s a guy with a crowbar who had just erupted with a scream … and this dope is ready for battle? I’ll not go into the details. But those were the last words this speeder spoke that Easter Sunday.
Pace proceeded to … remember? “Knock his block off.” After which this intruder slowly inched away with his damaged “block” never to return.
Pace returned to the porch. Unused crowbar in hand. With a triumphant smirk on his face having policed our street once more.
Postscript: Turned out the guy Pace took out was the son-in-law of the then Governor of Pennsylvania, George Leader. Pace sweated it out for weeks. But luckily no reprisal. “Phew.”
So, there you have it. This was my father. H. Payson Brickley. Bombastic, a fighter … lacking emotional control, grudge holder. Loyal, honest, authentic. Full of love never truly released. What a dichotomy!
Memorable. “Your Pace Brickley’s son?” I remember how proud I felt when someone asked me this. Oops … except for the one day George Leader’s son in law asked me this question
I ran like hell the other way!