From boys to men to fatherhood: three dads highlight the importance of being there for their children

NOWHERE is the absent father more painfully obvious than in the African-American community. The cycle of fatherlessness continues to plague the Black family structure. An estimated 24 million children live in a home where the father is not present. Studies conducted by the National Fatherhood Initiative in Gaithersburg, Md., indicate that Black males who grow tip without fathers are more likely to become violent criminals, have problems in school and are more likely to commit suicide. Despite the odds, or perhaps because them, some Brothers have overcome their own individual issues of growing up without a father to become outstanding examples of fatherhood in their own homes and communities. Their stories are both unique and familiar, both heart wrenching and inspirational.

When Phil Thomas was 6 months old, his father died of tuberculosis. His mom, who had been a stay-at-home mother, began working to support him and his older brother. "I have no memories of my father, but he was always present," says Thomas, 43. "My mother never remarried, and she spoke so highly of him that he was idealized in my mind. He was perfect."

Thomas knew that his mother had high expectations of her sons, and he received direction while growing up from his three maternal uncles and aunt. He grew up on the South Side of Chicago and remembers watching his Uncle Jack, in particular, who had six children and who was a strong role model with traditional head-of-household values. Thomas says that his mother was an excellent parent who stressed church and getting good grades in school. When at the home of friends, he would often watch their fathers in awe. "I was always fascinated by fathers," says Thomas, who later graduated from Morehouse College and then the University of Chicago. He's now program officer of the Woods Fund in Chicago.

While at a local theater in 1994, Thomas became smitten by a beautiful 19-year-old named Area, who he later realized was a childhood friend. The two married in 1997 and now have four children--Kahina, 8; Asa, 7; Makeda, 5; and Noah, 3. A traditional mother, Ama home-schooled their children and even gave birth at home, with Phil very much a part of the deliveries. "I caught all of them" he says of his children's births. "It made us bond."

In November 2004, Ama suffered a miscarriage and developed complications that led to cardiac arrest, which left her in a coma, a state that she remains in to this day. Thomas brought his wife home following an emergency room episode after Ama was moved from the hospital into a nursing home. "I believe she is going to wake up," he says. In the meantime, the dutiful husband and father works hard to keep his family intact and his children thriving. A local fund-raiser was held to help him pay for Ama's medical bills, which continue to mount. He also found help from an unlikely source--his four children. "Sometimes I get my strength from them," he says.

WHEN Amos Johnson III thinks back, he remembers his father always being in charge--of his home and of situations around him. "My father was an alpha male," he says, "meaning that it was his way or the highway." While he was growing up, Johnson says he had some issues with his father that created what he calls "a father wound," which led to some anger until his father passed away. He was only 16 at the time.

Today, Johnson is director of educational programs at the National Center for Fathering in Kansas City, Mo. One of the courses that the organization offers is called "Quenching the Father Wound," which helps men--some who grew up without fathers--to deal with their anger and pain that resulted because of those situations. "We teach that there is more than one way for a father to be absent, including physically, emotionally, mentally, socially, morally and spiritually," says Johnson.

Johnson, 34, himself admits that he was angry, even up until the time of his father's funeral. He says he made mistakes growing up because he didn't have a stronger relationship with his father. "I've been every statistic, bit by bit," he says.

However, today Johnson lives with his wife of nine years, Carri, and their four children--Imani, 10; Aaliyah, 7; Aiyana, 6; and Amos IV, 4. He is determined to help other men who grew up without a strong relationship with their fathers.

"This is my testimony about my 'father wound,'" he says, "and the motor that drives me to inspire and equip men across America to be the fathers and father figures all our children need them to be."

"There's a hole in my soul in the shape of my father," explains Roland Warren, who says he didn't always have regular contact with his father from the time he was a toddler. "My father still lived in the same town, but [my interaction with him] was limited ..."

When Warren was 16, he says his mother married her longtime companion. "He bought me my first baseball mitt and came to my games," he recalls. "My stepfather was certainly around for [many] years of my life."