My Dad was a civil engineering professor; specifically, steel and concrete structures. He was born in 1922 and raised in the Depression-era slums of St. Louis. His mom was an angel and his dad was an alcoholic bum -- they divorced when my Dad was 2 years old. Dad only saw him one more time. He (wisely) included the guy in his will, leaving him $1.
Dad was a good athlete who sprinted for his HS track team and actually made it through the Olympic weightlifiting trials to land a spot on the team. He turned that spot down to continue working towards his doctorate at Washington University. When he finished his Bachelor's degree he interrupted his studies to enlist in the Navy (WW2), and was sent to Annapolis for officer training. He suffered a near fatal asthma attack and was bounced 4F. Rather than going back to school, he took a job at Curtis Wright in St. Louis designing military wing structures. After the war, he finished his doctorate and started teaching. He also consulted on the design and construction of the St. Louis Arch, one of the locks on the Mississippi River, and the post mortem of the Hyatt Regency structural collapse in Kansas City.
He was exceptionally kind with an impish sense of humor. Everyone loved him. He won "best professor" awards anually, and was a lay leader and teacher in the Presbyterian Church. He was incredibly organized and hard-working. My sister and I benefitted greatly from his and Mom's absolute devotion to us. We would sponsor foreign students at the university every year -- I grew up around people from India, Viet Nam, Iran, parts of Africa, you name it. It was an incredibly eye-opening and valuable experience for a WASPy white kid from a small town in rural Missouri.
He was a lousy fisherman, a trait he passed on to me. He was an OK bowler, but I got better. He had no musical training but could peck out a melody on a piano and had a nice natural voice. He adored the St. Louis Cardinals, as did Mom. My Dad's mother did the books for Stan Musial's restaurant. (Mom grew up in a duplex next door to Dizzy Dean.)
He developed glioblastoma multiforme (brain cancer) at 86 years old and passed within 6 months. I miss him every day.