Not war, not distance, not even the death of his wife of 53 years stopped Bill Accola from doing what it took to be a father, grandfather and great-grandfather.
And on this Father’s Day, dozens of people who grew up under his wing will visit him at his house in St. Petersburg, Fla., and celebrate his dedication to three generations.
As the father to six children, grandfather to 14, and great-grandfather to four, Accola has made parenting work from the traditional roles and values of the 1940s through six decades of dramatic change in American society and family. At 79, the veteran of two wars, community volunteer, accordion player and swing dancer knows both the challenges and rewards of being “Big Dad,” as his grandchildren affectionately call him.
Any given day Accola, can be found having lunch with his granddaughters at St. Petersburg Country Club or assisting his grandson’s drama production at University of South Florida in Tampa.
“Being a father is the best thing that ever happened in my life,” Accola says.
Accola was 17 when he quit high school and joined the U.S. Navy, just in time for the end of World War II in 1945. He returned home to St. Louis in 1948 to propose to Mary Curley, his high school sweetheart. By 1950 he was fighting another war, this time in Korea. He was a cook and baker on the USS Shangri-La.
“I was a nobody,” Accola recalls of his time as a member of the crew.
He returned home on leave, then went back to his ship without knowing that his wife was pregnant with their first child.
“Well, it is obvious that somebody was in love with somebody,” Accola says as he tried to explain how he handled having his first child during wartime. “I give all the credit to my wife.”
Accola learned of his wife’s pregnancy by letters. When he realized he was going to be a father, he asked for a discharge.
“My dream was to get out of the Navy, make a living and support my family,” says Accola. “We were starving to death.”
He says he was making $37 a week. In those early years, he and his wife relied on their families to help pay the bills.
Accola came home for good in 1951, a few weeks before his first son was born. An accordion player since middle school, he found a job as a music instructor at the Stancato School of Accordion in St. Louis. He also taught guitar, piano, drums and organ.
The school transferred Accola to Miami in 1959, as a branch manager. At the time, the Accola family had three children. By 1964 they had six.
“We were poor, but hell, happy, because we grew up together,” Accola says.
In 1970, the accordion school closed and Accola joined the U.S. Postal Service, where he worked as a mail carrier for 14 years. His wife began work as a real estate agent. Life for the family steadily improved.
“We stopped counting nickels and dimes,” Accola says.
But no matter the size of the bank account, his children remember a father who actively participated in the work of the house. Accola’s first daughter, Rebecca Shotts, now 53, recalls her father changing her baby brother’s diapers. She says he also used to wake up early on the weekends to cook breakfast for the family before taking everyone to the beach.
“He was very strict growing up,” says Shotts, who remembers she always had to do a lot of chores at home. “The house was not easy to keep in order. The oldest always had to help with the other children.”
After 48 years of marriage, Mary Accola’s health problems left her bedridden and paralyzed. For the next five years, Accola devoted himself to his wife’s care, until she died of heart disease in 2001. His children feared their father would wilt under the weight of his grief. Instead, he reached out. He took a job as a crossing guard at camp programs. He volunteered at the veteran’s hospital. He became a regular at the American Legion.
“Not everybody has his patience,” says Melissa Scoggin, assistant at Gladden Park summer camp where Accola works with more than 200 hundred children and teenagers. “He is like a grandfather for all these kids.”
Accola’s short hair, Hawaiian-style shirt and gold neck chain give him a youthful and cheerful appearance.
“He is a fabulous dancer,” says Shotts. “He was the hit at my daughter’s wedding. He loves swing and big band.”
In his spare time, Accola carves wooden rockers shaped like airplanes and horses for his great-grandchildren.
“He has set a very good example for me and my children,” says Shotts. “He is 79 and he still gives back to the community as a volunteer.”
Many of his flock are now following in his various footsteps. Shotts is a mail carrier. Several of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren play musical instruments.
No one, however, has joined the military. That’s just fine with Accola. Now, more than five decades out of the service, he doesn’t see the sense in going to war. He says that if he could give one single bit of advice to young men, it would be, “Stay home and enjoy your life.”
And be a great dad.
