A father’s love and advice last forever. And it seems that we all have a story — a life lesson — that began with a few words of wisdom offered by a father to his child, sometimes at a crossroads in life and often worth retelling.

Last week, with Father’s Day approaching, a few old pals gathered for lunch in the Strip District for the first time in over a year, and Francis X. Caiazza was coaxed to tell again a favorite story about his father. Francis is a former Lawrence County Common Pleas Court judge and a retired U.S. magistrate judge.

In 1958, the New Castle kid had done well enough at Duquesne University to earn a scholarship to Georgetown Law School. It would be a financial reach beyond the scholarship, because the living expenses would be high, but this was heady stuff, and Francis was willing to work every moment outside of his classes to make it happen.

His father, Hugo, was a factory worker. Even with the little extra he earned playing string bass for a local dance band and bass tuba for the New Castle Red Coats, an Italian marching band, money was too tight for the likes of Georgetown. But the family would help Francis in whatever way that they could.

It was a shoestring proposition from the get-go. The day before classes started, Hugo drove his son to Washington, D.C., in their old Dodge, picking his way south on two-lane roads through the hills of Pennsylvania and Maryland for hours. That night, they stayed in the spare bedroom of generous strangers, a connection that was made by their family priest.

The next morning, they climbed into the Dodge and headed for Georgetown Law School, just a few blocks north of the U.S. Capitol. The two stood on the E Street sidewalk to say their goodbyes. And just before Francis headed toward the front door of the law school, his father gave him the best advice he had to offer, words that he hoped his son would live by.

With that familiar gentle smile, Hugo held his son’s gaze and softly said, “Don’t forget where you came from.” Then they turned and headed in their separate directions, each to his own life.

It was one of those good moments now locked in time. Francis worked hard and made it work for two years at Georgetown, and came back home to finish his law degree at Pitt when his father lost his factory job.

He built his law practice in New Castle, creating strong ties to the community, and he was elected county judge. And he and Roselee raised their three children there, making sure that each of them grew up understanding the fatherly advice that Hugo had given Francis on that sidewalk at Georgetown Law.

Years later when Francis was named to the federal bench, Roselee knew just what to give him to mark the high occasion. She had an artist draw a picture of the house in which Francis grew up. And engraved just below the drawing is the best advice that any father could give any kid anywhere, advice that is good for us all.

“Don’t forget where you came from.”

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