When it was time for Pat Frantz Cercone to learn how to sew, one
person was there. When it was time for her to learn to make noodles
from scratch, one person was there. When it was time to make
something for the school bake sale, one person was there.

That person? Her dad.

Richard Frantz raised his daughter by himself after his wife
died of a brain tumor in 1974 when Cercone was 11. This forced
Frantz to take on the role of mother as well as father.

An essay written by the Bradford woman will be included in an
upcoming book by Tim Russert – “Wisdom of Our Fathers: Lessons and
Letters from Daughters and Sons.”

Russert, NBC’s Washington, D.C., bureau chief and moderator of
“Meet the Press,” chose selections for the book, a follow up to
“Big Russ and Me: Father and Son – Lessons of Life,” a book he
wrote about his own father.

Cercone wrote about a man who was able to wear many hats at one
time and never wavered.

“How he managed to juggle all of that,” Cercone said. “Take care
of my mother (before she died), take care of me” – all while
working two full-time jobs at one point.

“I never saw him worked up. He didn’t stress over anything. I am
sure I would,” Cercone said. “To be able to juggle all of that is
absolutely amazing.”

Cercone’s essay, which celebrates her father, a barber from
North Versailles, a suburb of Pittsburgh, tells how she sends her
dad Mother’s Day cards, something she started a few years after her
mother died.

“It started as a joke,” she said. “But he really loved it. It
was a great source of pride for him.”

In her essay, Cercone writes, “My father often says he’s more
proud of what he accomplished as my mother than as my father
because being a mother was so much harder.”

One year she forgot to send him a card, something she will never
do again.

“He was quite upset,” she said. “I only forgot once.”

But early on, Cercone knew her dad was someone special.

“None of my friends’ dads were doing any of those things in the
mid-to-late-70s.

“The role of fathers were more typical – work, come home, watch
sports on TV, mow the grass,” Cercone said. “Now the roles have
changed, have blurred … it was pretty unusual back then.”

And Frantz, Cercone said, taught himself how to do most of these
things.

“He always knew to cook without a cookbook … he is a renaissance
man,” she said. “To be able to do those things so fabulously.

“I have never seen him make a cake from a box … box stuffing;
he’s never taken shortcuts.”

He also made Cercone pajamas and a dress when she graduated from
elementary school.

“It’s just so cool … something somebody makes you,” she said.
“It makes it so special. They took the time to make it.”

She, in turn, has continued the tradition by making pajamas for
her husband and son, Max.

“I wanted to pass it along … I hope they have the same warm and
fuzzy feeling I had when my dad made them for me … it was a nice
example to set.”

He also took cake decorating classes – which he explained was to
meet women – so Cercone could have cakes that looked like they came
from a bakery.

“I am very lucky. What if my dad would have been average? My
life would have been so different if he’d been an average dad.”

Cercone admitted that losing her mother at a critical time in
her life left her angry for awhile. Then, she realized how
fortunate she was.

“I lucked out. I had and have an unbelievable dad.

“He made sure my life was as stable and normal as possible,” she
said, adding – with a laugh – he never could teach her how to put
on make up.

Cercone, the director of marketing and communications at the
University of Pittsburgh at Bradford, first heard about the
opportunity to honor her father this way through Jeanie
Satterwhite, who saw Russert touting his previous book on Larry
King.

Cercone received a call from Satterwhite, who remembered a
column the former Era city editor wrote a decade ago. Cercone
submitted the column as is; then edited it when they asked for a
shorter version.

“Jeanie has always been very sweet, very supportive,” Cercone
said, reacting to Satterwhite remembering the column after all
these years.

Even after she submitted the essay, Cercone was not sure if hers
would be picked.

“I didn’t know what they were looking for,” she said. Other
essays include those written by Maria Shriver and Supreme Court
Justice Antonin Scalia.

On Halloween, she received an e-mail asking if she would submit
a photo of her with her dad. That photo is one of few that are
included in the book.

“Up to this point, I didn’t know if it had been accepted,” she
said. “I fired an e-mail back in record time.”

Then, she made two calls – one to her husband, Dominic, and
another to Satterwhite.

Her father’s reaction? He doesn’t know yet.

Cercone plans on handing him the book – sometime between
Mother’s Day and Father’s Day – with a Post-it note pinpointing the
essay about him.

The book, published by Random House, is due to be released May
23.

While Frantz taught his daughter the basics of cooking and
sewing, the thing that sticks out in Cercone’s head isn’t those
tangible things, but something more profound.

“Just to be strong in the face of the tragedy he faced,” Cercone
said. “What if I found out my spouse was dying …

“He had this strength and grace to be able to handle it. To be
strong and deal with it … you just deal with it and be strong … he
probably didn’t realize he was teaching me that.”

In the meantime, when Frantz reaches into the mailbox today, he
will find a Mother’s Day card addressed to him and signed by his
only child.

“It’s important to him, to both of us,” Cercone said of her
gesture.

“The older I get and now that I’m a mom, I realize how unusual
(he is),” she said. “He should be recognized; he should get a
Mother’s Day card. Every year from the time I was 11, he was my
mother.”