So I found myself wondering about Russell Wilson’s parents the other day. Don’t even remember why, maybe saw something on TV. Anyway, I sat down and did the usual thing, typed it into the search bar.
Took maybe two seconds. Harrison Wilson III and Tammy Wilson. Popped right up. Read a bit further. His dad, the Harrison guy, sounded like a pretty sharp dude – lawyer, played football and baseball back in college, Dartmouth I think it said. Impressive. His mom, Tammy, a legal nurse consultant, background in nursing. Okay, solid folks.
But seeing that combo, you know, the lawyer part and the athlete part from his dad… it kinda stopped me for a second. Got me thinking about my own old man. He wasn’t some fancy lawyer or big-time athlete. Worked his whole life at the plant. Hard work, long hours. Didn’t talk much about dreams or anything like that.
I remember him always pushing me, but it wasn’t towards fame or anything flashy. It was always about security. “Get a steady job,” he’d say. “Something you can count on.” He came from a time when that was the goal, you know? Put food on the table, keep a roof over your head. Seeing Wilson’s background, Ivy League and all that, it just highlighted how different paths can be.
My dad, he supported me the best way he knew how. Never pushed me into sports or law school, that wasn’t our world. He just wanted me to be okay, to be stable. And I am, mostly. Got my own way of doing things now.
It’s just funny, isn’t it? You start looking up something simple like who some quarterback’s parents are, and next thing you know, you’re deep in thought about your own life, your own dad, the paths taken and not taken. Makes you appreciate what you had, even if it wasn’t like somebody else’s story.
So yeah, that was my little journey starting with Russell Wilson’s parents. Ended up thinking more about my own roots. Happens sometimes when you start digging around online. Just gets the mind wandering.
