In the clamor of modern discourse, the term “patriarchy” often evokes images of oppression and outdated social structures. Yet, for many, including myself, patriarchy, in its most wholesome form, represents something profoundly positive: the bedrock of family, tradition, and community. This Father’s Day, I find myself reflecting on the influence of my own “Papa Pete,” a man who embodied the quiet strength and steadfast values that are increasingly absent in contemporary society. Understanding the legacy of figures like Papa Pete is crucial, not just for personal reflection, but for grasping the very essence of a stable and thriving society.
To truly appreciate the impact of Papa Pete, we need to journey back to a specific time and place: Southern Louisiana in 1983. While much of America was experiencing the burgeoning optimism of the Reagan era, my hometown of Lafayette was facing economic hardship. The oil boom that had enriched the region throughout the 1970s had turned to bust, leaving families and communities reeling from the sudden downturn.
For the nation, 1983 signaled economic recovery, with falling inflation and rising employment. It felt like the country was shaking off the stagnation of the previous decade, leaving behind the energy crises and economic woes of the ’70s. It was, by many measures, a year of national resurgence.
However, in Lafayette, Louisiana, the picture was starkly different. Our local economy was deeply intertwined with the energy sector, particularly the oil and natural gas industries of the Gulf Coast. From geologists and engineers to the men working the rigs offshore—like my Papa Pete—to the refinery workers processing raw materials, countless livelihoods depended on a thriving oil market.
The energy crisis of the 70s had been our boom. As America struggled with gas prices, investment and jobs poured into Southern Louisiana, fueling domestic energy production. Now, as oil prices plummeted, our region faced the brunt of the economic fallout. Plants shuttered, energy companies laid off masses of workers, and a severe economic recession gripped our community. Families who had called this region home for generations were forced to uproot, seeking work wherever they could find it.
This economic devastation triggered a cascade of social problems. As the local economy faltered and the very fabric of our Cajun culture seemed to fray, the less desirable aspects of our community came into sharper focus. Insularity, family conflicts, a lack of emphasis on education, neglect, rising divorce rates, and alcohol abuse – these issues, already present, were exacerbated by the crisis. My own family was not immune. My parents divorced, and my father, battling alcoholism, could no longer provide for us. My mother took a full-time job, and we moved into subsidized housing, relying on free school lunches.
Amidst this turbulent backdrop stood my grandfather, Mark “Pete” Pitre – Papa Pete to me. He was a patriarch in the truest sense of the word, a man whose life was anchored by deep faith in God, unwavering patriotism, and profound devotion to his family. Born in Opelousas, Louisiana, in 1919, Papa Pete grew up in poverty and left school early to work as a mechanic. But Pearl Harbor changed everything. He answered his nation’s call, enlisting in the United States Marine Corps during World War II.
His natural aptitude for mechanics led him to become an airplane mechanic, stationed at a base in Southern California. It was there he met my grandmother, Betty French. A petite woman, barely five feet tall, she was adept at installing radar and intricate systems in the noses of aircraft, a task that often proved challenging for larger mechanics. Their shared work in the engine well of an airplane sparked a romance, and they married shortly after Victory in Europe Day in 1945. My mother was born the following year. After their service in the Marines, Papa Pete convinced my grandmother to return with him to his roots in Opelousas.
He became a roughneck for Esso, later Exxon Mobil, enduring grueling work schedules – seven days on, seven days off – on offshore rigs in the Gulf. He’d hitchhike to the coast to catch a boat to the rig. It was physically demanding work, but Papa Pete took immense pride in providing for his family. He was the epitome of a “man’s man” – strong, capable hands, a knack for fixing anything mechanical. While not overly expressive, his actions spoke volumes. He valued hard work, the camaraderie of friends, a cold beer, and the simple pleasure of watching a baseball game, particularly his beloved Atlanta Braves. Living in Louisiana’s “Sportsmen’s Paradise,” he was an avid fisherman.
Beyond his outward toughness, Papa Pete possessed a gentle and deeply faithful nature. He was a gentleman in the old style, believing in the importance of caring for women, especially my grandmother. Saturdays often included yard work followed by a firm directive to clean up for Confession. Despite modest means, he always ensured there was an offering for the church collection at Sunday Mass, a ritual the entire family observed. Like many Cajun men, Papa Pete held a special devotion to the Virgin Mary, his rosary always near his bedside. He also remained devoted to his widowed mother, visiting her almost daily throughout her long life.
For me, Papa Pete was more than just a grandfather; he was a vital role model, a constant source of stability and unconditional love during a turbulent period. As my world seemed to crumble around me, I clung to him, finding refuge in his steadfast presence. As a child, I didn’t fully grasp the depth of his roots, the rich tradition and faith that underpinned his character and provided the stability I so desperately needed. Papa Pete embodied that tradition.
The positive influence of Papa Pete’s patriarchy can be summed up in one word: piety. While some mischaracterize patriarchy as solely about male dominance, reminiscent of dystopian narratives, the reality, as exemplified by Papa Pete, is far different. True patriarchy, in the vein of Little House on the Prairie or It’s a Wonderful Life, is about patrimony. It’s about fathers and grandfathers passing down values, traditions, and a sense of belonging to their sons and grandsons, instilling pride in their heritage and responsibility to future generations. Piety, in this context, is central.
Piety is a sense of duty and gratitude. It’s recognizing our obligations stemming from the gifts we’ve received – from family, community, and heritage. It’s gratitude for our inheritance. As Bertrand de Jouvenel described it, piety is embodied by “the wise man” who “knows himself as debtor” and is “inspired by a deep sense of obligation.” The Romans considered pietas a cornerstone virtue, essential to their republic.
Piety is the fruit of a healthy patriarchy, and it is the heart of conservatism. Conservatives understand that our lives are built upon the foundations laid by those who came before us – by God, country, ancestors, communities, and families. Gratitude compels us to protect, improve, and pass on this inheritance. We feel a sense of duty to our posterity, born from gratitude to our parents and those who shaped us.
As Renaissance scholar James Hankins eloquently explains:
We have obligations we can never repay, and that fact imposes on us an obligation of loyalty to the sources of those benefits. The proper human response to all the unearned blessings we have received is pietas.
In a healthy society, institutions should cultivate this awareness of our inheritance. This is the true essence of patriarchy and Father’s Day – recognizing and honoring the positive legacy of father figures.
Yet, even within conservative circles, the concept of patriarchy is often neglected, along with the piety it fosters. This Father’s Day, many conservative voices rightly decry the absence of fathers in homes, highlighting the social science data showing the negative outcomes for children raised without fathers.
The statistics are stark: nearly a quarter of American children grow up without a father figure in the home, significantly increasing their likelihood of poverty, incarceration, substance abuse, and school dropout.
However, few connect this crisis of absent fathers to the broader decline of patriarchy – the natural structure of family that has been eroded in our culture. While it’s easy to point fingers at individual men for failing to fulfill their responsibilities, we must also acknowledge that our culture no longer incentivizes men to lead and take responsibility for their families and communities in the way figures like Papa Pete once did.
Individual accountability is paramount, but in a culture that devalues patriarchy, it’s unsurprising that fewer men are stepping into traditional roles of responsibility. Without Papa Pete’s example in my life, I honestly wonder if I would have.
If conservatives continue to address only the symptoms of societal breakdown without tackling the root causes, these problems will only worsen. Restoring a healthy sense of patriarchy, and the piety it cultivates, is a fundamental element of the conservative project. Without it, individuals and communities will continue to suffer, and the conservative movement itself will struggle to gain traction.
The left instinctively understands this. Their rallying cry was “smash the patriarchy,” not merely “oppose conservatism.” It’s time conservatives recognized the same and made the restoration of a positive, responsible patriarchy a central tenet of their agenda.
For me, the difference in navigating the challenges of my youth was faith, hope, and love: the faith of my forefathers, hope in God’s plan, and the unwavering love of family and community, personified by Papa Pete. The defining factor separating my path from those of many lost men in Southern Louisiana was the patriarchal example of Papa Pete. He instilled in me a deep sense of identity, of belonging to a story and a culture.
He taught me about roots and belonging, about gratitude for the past and hope for the future. He showed me that tradition is not static but a living, breathing force, and that our best days can still lie ahead.
This Father’s Day, as I look at my own son, I am filled with gratitude for the enduring wisdom of Papa Pete, and the timeless importance of father figures who embody piety, responsibility, and love. He was right.
