My Father Had Two Families

That was son #3’s opening statement when he spoke of his remembrances of Tony during the necrological service at his wake. 

Many must have held their breath waiting for a bombshell. 

“First,” he said, “was our small family—Mom, my two older brothers and me.” 

I looked down, unable to hold back my tears. 

“Second, Prime Advertising systems, Inc., the company he founded and loved. It needed most of his time, except weekends, which he spent with us.” 

ooo

Son #3 was still in my womb when Tony took another big risk (the other one, he often joked, was when he married me). 

With hardly any savings . . . two sons going to a private school . . . me, big with child . . . he resigned from his job as Vice President in an advertising agency and put up his own, Prime Advertising systems, Inc. Just in time, I got a raise in my job in another advertising firm.  

Hardworking, humble, simple, transparent, straightforward, with uncompromising ethics and values (his staff’s words, not mine), he hired people who shared his vision and mindset.

I kept away from Prime (we were competitors after all) and went to his office only when invited: Christmas parties and anniversary celebrations. He, however, took our sons often with him to the office during school break, perhaps to model what hard work was like.  

On Prime’s 20th year, Tony borrowed my print of Matisse’s painting, which I bought from a sidewalk near Louvre, for a commemorative plate sent to clients and suppliers.  

From a babe in the womb to a lawyer, son #3 saw his father divide his time between Prime and us. 

Somewhere in between, we moved to a new home (a humble one where we still live in today, four decades later), sons #1 and 2 graduated from the school of engineering and school of medicine, and Tony went through major life-threatening medical surgeries. I retired from the corporate world and embraced writing. 

Prime stood pat. 

With new technology, advertising had morphed into a stranger—theories he and I both thought as gospel truth were now hogwash.  

In 2015, son #2 talked Tony into closing the shop. Which he did slowly, one person at a time, over the next two years because, “I don’t want my people to be suddenly displaced.” 

Prime was 33 years of Tony’s life.

At his wake, a number of his former staff, who call themselves Primates on social media, traveled from different places to say good-bye. 

Oh, the many heartfelt tributes they wrote and said for their former boss! Indeed, Prime was not just a bold business venture, it was Tony’s second family. 

A fan of Elvis, Tony was gifted by his staff on his 70th birthday an Elvis standee, with his face superimposed. Everyone wrote his greetings behind it. Knowing how much he treasured this creative present, we brought it to his wake. (Photos show some Primates. Others came on other nights.)