Mark J. Hanna

Yesterday morning the Texas House passed a resolution to honor my Dad’s life and career and included the following comments in-part:

A true statesman, Mark avoided controversy whenever possible, choosing to negotiate a win-win solution for all. Always impeccably attired with every hair in place, he roamed the Capitol halls and committee meetings with dignity and respect. His warm smile depicted a sense of calm and a professional demeanor with a whiff of humor and subtle sarcasm. He was always viewed with the highest respect by those individuals and organizations he represented.

My father, was a good man … really good man. A leader, a skilled attorney, a compassionate friend, a loyal husband, a wonderful dad and most of all … he was Big Fella to his special little friend – my daughter, Catherine. Like his own personal traffic cop, she gave him lots of tickets, often for no reason at all, and he always paid them with a smile.

My Dad was simultaneously a simple, but complicated man, who lived his life on his own terms. He was proud of his accomplishments, proud of his service to his country, proud of his service to his clients and proud of his family. He was always ready to face the next challenge.

As many of you know, Dad was raised on Air Force bases, as an Officer’s son. Misbehavior was not an option. He had and expected, the highest of standards when it came to behavior, manners and respect for others.

One of his earliest stops as a boy was Montgomery, Alabama in the 1950’s. There, he played football for a team called Sunday Dinner. For his entire life, he was mesmerized by the Deep South boys that walked to school and played tackle football barefoot. They were tough, and his compassion, empathy and respect for all of God’s people began at an early age. And it lasted a lifetime.

Soon after moving from Lake Charles to Austin, his father purchased him his first car from an enlisted Airman that was being transferred off-base. It was a 49 Plymouth, and I think they paid $50. The floorboards were rusted out, and you could see the street when you drove. It barely made the long drive from Bergstrom Airforce Base downtown to Austin High, but dad didn’t care.

Dad loved the cars of his era: the muscle, the simplicity, the mechanics. His favorite was his 1965 Pontiac GTO. It was Austin High maroon with a black interior and a black top. 4 on the floor with tiger paw tires. It’s one and only flaw, in his eyes, was that it couldn’t do wheelies like the Buick Electra.

The one thing dad loved most, besides his family, of course, were dogs and horses. If I took the time to talk to you about his love for all of companions from the animal kingdom, from his first dog, Tiger the Cairn Terrier, to his first horse, Chief the paint, we would be here all afternoon. That said, I cannot move on from animals without mentioning his superbly trained beloved Labradors – the best on the Texas coast, as he would say.

Dad loved the water, he loved the sun, he loved the beach and he loved boats: Numerous boats to be more precise. He worked hard for his possessions and watched after them with meticulous care. He was proud of his boats and I was proud to get them dirty.

It was always interesting to me, and even more so now after recently hearing from my Casis, O. Henry, Austin High, and UT friends, how so many of them considered Dad their friend too.  We skied, we shot ducks, we caught billfish. He partied with us Texas/OU, the SAE house and weddings. To be honest, he was just part the group. I’m not going to say he spoiled us, but he did. His yellow dogs always picked up our ducks and through me, he owned the finest car stereo system in Austin, Texas.

My father loved his family more than life itself. And just like me, he had a very special relationship and bond with his mother, Bettye Bennett Hanna. He adored her and she adored him. He cared for her until the day she died, and … I think, the only mistake he ever made in her eyes was Timmy. Timmy the Parakeet was the bird that HE purchased HER for HER birthday.

It is impossible to talk about my dad without talking about my mom. Mark and Debbie’s first date was on Bee Cave Road – in a car I presume. Looking back on Austin today, he always reminded me that at that point time, at what is now Loop 360, Bee Caves Road turned into dirt.

My mother and father were married for 45 years. Glorious years. It was an intense love, marked by intense devotion to each other.

My dad has said many times to many people that my mom saved his life. He leaned on her in ways that might have caused others to buckle, but she always rose to the occasion. She was his friend, his lover, his confidant, his cheerleader, and the best listener.  She encouraged him, and most of all, she believed in him. As dad frequently joked, your mom is sometimes wrong but never in doubt.

If you, like me, are a devoted a fan of Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove, you understand the power of the male characters Gus and Call.  As you roll through that epic novel, you meet the powerful, no nonsense, resilient woman Clara - a pivotal figure in the important moments that McMurtry used to define that period of time: saving lives, fighting Indians, handling horses, and watching the wagons come and go as she guided each character, asking for nothing in return.

For my father, my mother was his modern day Clara, and I submit to you, what you probably already know: as the coming days, weeks and months will pass, she will tell you that she is fine, just fine …… please don’t believe her. As a favor to me, Catherine, and my Father, wrap her in your love.

Mother told me that Dad recently said, when I die, I want people to know I owe my life to Debbie and Dolly Parton……it seems there is a poignant Dolly song that meant so much to them both, titled Here You Come Again.

When you have a quiet moment to reflect on their life together … listen to Dolly and you will know all there is to know about the love that was my parents.

God bless you and thank you for helping our family turn this corner.

I LOVE YOU DAD.