Dad turns 100 today.

My dad's birthday is today. If my dad had lived past age 92, he would have turned 100 years old today, July 28, 2007. Born in a church manse as the eldest of two boys, - preacher's kids - my dad lived the life, and fought the battles of a PK (preacher's kid).His grammar school didn't have electricity, lighted only by gas lamps. He and his brother, Paul, moved several times with their parents around Chicago and Indiana, establishing Presbyterian Churches along the way.

What dad brought into our lives was free spirited thinking; a strong belief in the Lord Jesus Christ; music; some chaos; a strong sense of community; and a love for my mother, his kids, and our extended family (including our neighbors of 30 years) that was everlasting. He was even athletic in his own way. My dad was a self made individualist who had a unique style of his own. He was anti-establishment with an independent spirit.

Walking was dad's physical sport of choice. Every night after dinner he would grab the dog's leash, and he and (our dog) Mickey would take a walk of about a mile around the neighborhood. Good thing to work off those pounds, because our family liked to eat. Sometimes, he would return from his after-dinner walk with a large pizza - always willing to please! He was also a strong swimmer, and I remember going with him to watch a swim meet sponsored by the local Kiwanis Club, where he was a member. When we arrived he found out that they were one swimmer short for the team, so he sat me down in the stands, put on an extra swim suit someone had in their bag, and joined in.

An entrepreneur at a young age, he and his brother created the Safeway Driving School in the 1940s, a business sponsored by the Chicago Motor Club. One of his great claims to fame was teaching Nancy Reagan how to drive. Many years after the driving school had closed, dad still proudly displayed an autographed picture of Nancy Reagan on his dresser mirror.

Dad had a few other brushes with famous people, too. One day when he was attending naval officer's training school at Harvard during World War II, he and my mother took a walk across campus. They noticed a disheveled old man with long gray hair, walking ahead of them. My dad commented, "That must be one of the town drunks." A man walking just behind my parents heard the comment and replied, "No sir, that disheveled man is Albert Einstein!"

Never one to shy away from an opportunity with celebrity, my dad was the first to go up and greet actor Pat O'Brien when we ran into him one Sunday 40 years ago at Mickelberry's log cabin restaurant on Chicago's south side. My dad quickly ushered my brother, sister, and me up to the actor to be introduced with, "Hello. I'm Stewart McClenahan, and these are my kids." Mr. O'Brien was appearing at Drury Lane Theater just a mile away.

During his Navy days aboard the Westpoint, dad also rubbed shoulders with actor and comedian Red Skelton. When my dad ran the Oxygen Medical Service, one of his clients was Elijah Muhammad, leader of the black separatist religious movement known as the Nation of Islam.

Driving and cars played an integral part in our lives because of my dad. He was proud of his work at the driving school, and taught each of his kids how to drive. Those lessons didn't come without a fair portion of blood, sweat and tears. We had to learn on a three speed, manual transmission car - and take our driver's tests on those cars, too! We didn't pass, or get use of the car unless we could successfully parallel park, facing uphill! I remember my dad telling me during those lessons that by learning the three speed, I would be able to drive any type of vehicle in my life. He was right! He also said that I would be able to learn this with ease, and eventually be 'doing it in my sleep.' Well, maybe not in my sleep, but easily without effort.

Since our family lived on a tight budget, our family cars were always used - never new. In the '70s, my dad was in his glory when his 'new' used car was a Volkswagen Beetle - a far cry from the sedans he had driven all his life. He bought the car from a shirttail relative who only drove it to church on Sundays (or so the story goes), and after he picked the car up, he honked the horn all the way home.

It was my dad's second career move that made a lasting impression with me, and fueled my passion for the eldercare field. After the driving school, dad opened Oxygen Medical Service, a company that delivered medical equipment and supplies to hospitals, nursing homes and private pay clients. I was about six years old and he would take me along on his routes. His clients were happy to see a small child, and the experience gave me an understanding of the lives of the frail elderly. On the way home from his deliveries, we would stop at the A & W Root Beer drive-in and get, what my dad called , "A couple of small RBs." Dad would get a gigantic stein of root beer, and I would have a kid's-size real glass stein.

Dad was a terrific writer and took every opportunity to write to the newspaper editors, the state's attorney, or anybody else he felt needed his opinion. TIME Magazine printed my dad's letter about the atrocities of war when Lord Mountbatten was killed, and a medical publication ran dad's comments about the benefits of brushing your teeth with baking soda. (He used backing soda all his life, and had most of his teeth -gold crowns and all - when he died).

Then there was music. He loved to sing and had the wonderful gift of being able to play the piano by ear. Dad was probably a choir member in every church he attended, and was also a proud member of the Morgan Park Glee Men - a men's chorus on the south side of Chicago. He did his best to keep up with the times, -especially in the musical arena. When Saturday Night Fever and the disco era were in full swing, dad came to me one day and asked if I had heard of The Bee Gees? Of course! He told me he had just heard a song by The Bee Gees on the radio, and immediately sat down at our piano and played, "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart" from memory!

My parents were all about service and giving. When dad taught eighth grade science (his third career) in one of the Chicago suburbs' underprivileged schools, he set up an after-school woodworking program for the kids. Dad would go to a local lumber yard and get the scrap wood donated. In that program the kids -most without dads- built bird houses, wooden boats and kites.

When a family from his school was burned out of their home, dad collected clothing and organized a drive to help the family get back some of what they lost. He was an active member of Kiwanis, volunteered for community programs such as flu shot clinics and election judging. Closer to home, dad helped out some of our neighborhood kids when they had troubles at home. He was also known in our area as Mr. Mack, the "go to guy" if a neighbor needed his car jump- started on a cold winter morning.

Believing in God and living a spiritual life was the foundation for both mom and dad. It was their faith that carried them through the rough hurdles in life. His favorite Bible passage was Romans 8:28 "We know that all good things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose."

Dad's love for mom for more than 57 years was never doubted. He died just eight weeks after she did, and we are fairly certain he kept going that last year for her sake. His love of family and for his country were also limitless. One of the hymns that knew by heart was Henry F. Hemi's "Faith of Our Fathers, Living Still." That was my dad -faithful, loving, very much full of life, -and living still our hearts.

Happy 100th birthday, Dad.