Having a grandfather by the name of Bing Crosby was, to say the least, very interesting. Everyone hears of stories of individuals who have a famous father or mother or some distant relative, and of the benefits and some burdens that accompany fame. In my situation, being somewhat removed as a grandson, the relationship was far simpler and more straightforward. In other words, it was the fairly typical grandfatherly relationship, the normal give and take that anyone might expect.

On the other hand, my father, Gary Crosby—an actor, singer, entertainer—had a very different relationship with this father, Bing Crosby, one that spanned the many emotions, from love to anger. In some ways, it might be said to be typical of a strong father and a strong-willed son. A closer look may provide some insight into the question that has always been raised when speaking about Bing Crosby: “Was he a mean father?”

As we all know, my dad wrote a book, Going My Own Way, about himself and his father. If we read the book without thinking about typical parental relationships— especially those involving fathers and sons, and particularly the oldest male child—we might conclude that father and son disliked one another intensely. But the truth is that there was a mutual respect between the two men, although their interactions were often difficult and trying.

My dad grew up at a time—the 1930s, 1940s, and early 1950s—when men's emotions were not expressed, but rather were expected to be buried. A man showed emotion by fighting, not by talking; it was a world far different from ours today. At the same time, my dad, like most of us, had his own personal demons; his were manifested in the form of alcoholism. And while he stopped drinking in the early 1960s, it took him many years to comprehend and to acknowledge all of the “stuff” he had inside him. Some of that was parent-related. Remember, Bing's first wife, Dixie, died when my dad was just eighteen years old.