I Only Wish...

Gang,

Father's Day used to be one of my favorite days of the year. 

You see, I won the Dad Lottery. My father, Dr. Morris "Moe" Claman, was the greatest influence in and of my life. He was the most compassionate, wise, funny and brilliant man I've ever met.  Every single good thing I am is because of him. He's the one who encouraged me to leave the cozy confines of my hometown of Beverly Hills, California to strike out on my own in Columbus, Ohio where I had gotten my first job offer to be a reporter at the little third-rated station, WSYX.  It was scary to be 22 and heading to a town where I knew no one but he said, "I'm so proud of you. You got this all on your own and I'm just so excited for you."  He made me feel confident.  "Don't worry. We'll be here. I'm  your safety net. If you fall, I'll catch you." It was the start of my dream career of being a journalist. 

He talked me through Columbus, Cleveland, Boston, and then---that pivotal moment in 1998 when I got the job offer to go to the then little-known-outside-of-the-hardcore-business-world network of CNBC.  They had offered me a freelance, 13-week, give-it-your-best-shot-and-MAYBE-we'll-hire-you chance to work there. I would be leaving a great and solid anchor job at WHDH in Boston at the time, chock full of health benefits and friends.   I asked the advice of several people in the news business and they all said, "You've worked very hard to get where you are in the news world. There are paths to take, but this business news thing ain't one of them." 

I went to the one guy I KNEW would see it in a different light. "Dad, should I go?" And without ANY hesitation he said, "Do it. It'll be the BEST thing you ever did for your career.  Dive in.  The greatest gains are made when you TAKE A CHANCE on something.  Even if you can't see how deep or shallow the water is, dive in."

9 years later when I reached a cross-roads in my professional life, I reached for him and his advice again, but he wasn't there.  My dad died on January 14th, 2007 of complications from a blood disease. Thankfully I was able to rush to LA to see him.  The giant in my life was so sick he couldn't talk. I handed him a pen and paper but the man who had deftly written prescriptions for world leaders or passionate Letters to the Editor about universal healthcare couldn't scratch out a simple word.  He was too weak.

I've never been the same since he died, but I had to hold on to that gutsy, risk-taking side he tried to prop up within me so when Fox called months later to tell me, "We'd love to work with you. We can't tell you what you'd be doing or with whom you'd be working, it's all so new, but we know we'd love for you to be part of it", I thought, "What would dad think?"  I knew right away he'd say, "Dive in, Liz."

So I did. And I'm heartbroken he can't see me on Fox Business because I just KNOW he'd love it. He always loved a good underdog story... the kind where the little guy takes on the big dog.  He was born during the Great Depression. He grew up as the son of penniless Russian-Jewish immigrants, often hungry.  But he fought through it and became a world-renowned surgeon who saved the lives of so many.  In 1977, he operated on the president of Israel, Ephraim Katzir. I just read that Katzir died recently. He was in his '90's. I was envious. Dad died at age 77.

So on this day I hope you appreciate your dads. Especially if they were good to you, guided you, encouraged you.  I'd kill to pinch his cheek today, hug him and say, "Thanks, Moe. "