MARK-ALAN WHITTLE
Embrace change … make it work                                         CONTACT MARK
FAMILY TIME IS PRECIOUS

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The Packet & Times (Orillia)
Our family had the privilege through the sacrifice and hard work of my mom, Ann, and dad, Bert, to have a lakefront cottage where I spent my summer vacation with my mom while dad worked in the city.
Each year my dad took me to a powerboat regatta on Sparrow Lake where hydroplane races took place. After watching these races I decided that I would build my own racing boat complete with an outboard motor. Being a little speed demon gave my father pause to consider my request, but in the end he relented.
I sent away to California for plans while my dad enlisted the help of a family friend named Gord Chick, who was an amateur boat builder, to help us construct the vessel. Hundreds of evening and weekend hours were devoted to building the boat of my dreams.
I will never forget the powerful message given to me about patience and devotion to crafting a vessel that would stand the test of time.
This quality time with my father and his friend has always served to remind me of the importance of a strong father figure who is willing to spend such great amounts of time with his children and how it shapes their lives for the better.
I will never forget launching day as the boat my father and I built, painted a fiery orange by my grandpa on holidays from England, slowly slid into the azure waters of Lake Couchiching in Orillia. The rush of adrenaline I got as my dad pulled the cord to fire her up was ecstatic.
As I eased on the throttle and she began to plane out and gain speed, I glanced over my shoulder at my dad on shore.
The look of pride and accomplishment at what we had created together could never be adequately described as I put these thoughts to paper today. I have only felt prouder when my own son, Logan, participated in his first walkathon to raise funds for the Children's Hospital in our community.
I know my dad would be extra proud because Logan has cerebral palsy and was only two-and-a-half years old. Over the years that boat served me well and is still as seaworthy today as she was that sun-drenched summer day in 1969 when Bert and I launched her.
Although my father has long since passed, sometimes I like to run my hand down the sides of her hull in my mind's eye and remember my loving dad, Bert Whittle, and his unflagging love and understanding while teaching me patience and perseverance in life.

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