Our Ace In The Hole

The business of running Sportside Books slowed to a crawl during my mother's recent illness. This web log is a tribute to my mom, Theresa A. (Coleman) Armstrong, who passed away on the morning of Novemer 10.


My mother, the former Theresa Ann Conaway (born April 28, 1933 in New York City), was an independent thinker and she was strong, even to the point of being headstrong. This might have explained why she married my father, born Joseph Tracy Coleman, Sr., but known to many by the oh-so-appropriate nickname of Joe Slick. He and my mom grew up in the same building, a tenement apartment house on Elsmere Place in Bronx, New York. My father was five years older than my mom. When he came of age, he joined the U.S. Army, where, because of the times and other factors, he was able to advance only to the rank of sergeant in 20 years. Five years after enlisting, he came around the old neighborhood, finding that Terry Conaway was now 18 years old.

That my father showed up when he did was quite convenient for my mom. She'd been raised in a Catholic household by a strict disciplinarian of a father, Garrett W. Conaway, Sr., and his wife, the former Doris Gillman. Though she loved my grandfather dearly, my mother had come of age in the big city, and she no longer wanted to be held down or back. Young, headstrong, thinking she had all of the answers, she hooked up with my father, which was like jumping from a frying pan right into the fire. They were married in January of 1952.

My oldest brother, Joseph Tracy Coleman, Jr., was born a premie in August of that year, and my other brother, Michael Anthony Coleman, was born in March of 1954. Both were born in Fort Lee, New Jersey. Sometime in the next two years, my father was stationed in Frankfurt, West Germany, to aid in the ongoing reconstruction of the city following World War II. My sister, Mara Theresa Coleman, was born there at the end of 1956. After returning to the States in 1958, my father was sent back to Deutschland for a second tour. I (David Wayne Coleman) was born in Frankfurt in March of 1960.

Mother's marriage to my father was a rocky one, to say the least. I was the end result of one of their final attempts at reconciliation. Sometime soon after returning Stateside in late 1962, they split up for the last time. Their divorce was final in 1966. By then, my father had been stationed in Korea, where he became involved with a woman from a fishing village. My younger sister, Linda Coleman, was born to them in the interim. They later had my younger brother, James (J.J.) Coleman.

To support her four children, my mom worked as a surgical nurse (one of the best in her trade) at various New York City hospitals. Left with the bills from her first marriage, she worked two jobs until she had paid off her creditors, then she went right on working and saving her money. These years, 1966 to 1970, were rough ones if you were living in the ghetto in The Bronx. Drugs were everywhere, and my older brothers fell under their influence. Mother finally had enough money to move us away from New York during the summer of 1970. After four days of riding west on the Pennsylvania, Union Pacific, and Southern Pacific railroads, we arrived in California.

That first year in California, we lived in Oakland. Mother then moved us south to San Diego, where she would spend most of the next 33 years. In 1974, she met and married a U.S. Marine named Melvin D. Armstrong. Mother moved with him, and her youngest two children, to Northern Virginia, where they spend the next couple of years. Soon after Mel was stationed back in Southern California, he and my mom split up.

Back in San Diego and back on her own, Mother finished raising Mara and me. She never really dated again. Kids came and went, but her youngest son stayed an uncommonly long time. In fact, we bought a condo together in 1988. I finally moved out at age 37, after marrying my first wife in September of 1997. It was not a long marriage, at all. By the end of March, 1998, I'd moved back in with my mom, along with her first grandchild, Reina Coleman. I finally moved out for good after remarrying in 2002. Mother's second grandchild, David Coleman, Jr., was born in July of 2003. Her third and final grandchild, Amber Coleman, came along in March of 2006.

During 2005, Mother sold the condo during the height of the California real estate boom. We made a tidy profit, enough to purchase homes in Arizona. Mother moved to Mohave Valley; south of Bullhead City and across the Colorado River from Laughlin, Nevada. A haven for retirees, Mohave Valley was not a happening enough place for my mom, so she sold the house and bought a newer one in North Las Vegas. She lived there until almost the end. During her final six months, she had rented a home in Las Vegas, proper. Although 78 years old, Mother was still sharp as a tack, but she'd been a lifelong smoker. A heart ailment led to her death.

Through all she went through, from failed marriages to sky-high debt, whether helping her kids get off drugs, or picking one of us up whenever we'd fall, Mother always let us know how much she loved us, and that she was on our side. These were not mere words. Mother supported us, assisted us, encouraged us, forgave us, and sustained us for nearly sixty years, since she first became a mother. She was right there, in our respective corners, backing us up constantly and bailing us out, including financially, whenever she had to.

My mother gave her life to her children, and later to her grandchildren. All of the things a mother should be, she was. All the things a mother should do, she did. We could always depend on her, and we did. Since she has left us, however, I have felt her spirit more strongly than ever. Considering how close Mother and I always were, that is truly saying something. I had the greatest mother I could imagine anyone having, and I still have her. She is still inside of me, giving me strength, fortifying my resolve, and reassuring and comforting me. And, I know she is doing the same things for my siblings and for my children.

For the seven of us, Mother was a true and lifelong blessing, and the best friend we could hope to have. Her love will live on in all of us. Her struggle to improve her life, and the strength she showed in overcoming whatever difficulties, will always inspire us. Her devotion to us will warm our hearts for as long as we live. And, her legacy will live on through my children and through the further generations of her progeny. My siblings and I may have gotten the Joker in the deck, so to speak, when it came to our father, but in our mother, Theresa A. Armstrong, we were dealt an Ace of Spades. Her love trumped all of our troubles. She was our Ace in the Hole!