My dad worked at a power plant.

But for a kid fascinated by secret-agent shows like “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.” and “Mission Impossible,” it looked like a high-security compound.

Every once in a while, on weekends, my dad would take my brother and me to the plant. The gate — the coolest part — had a two-way speaker, connected to a guard shack. Dad would pull the car up, identify himself, and the mechanized chain-link, barbed-wire-topped gate would roll open.

Suddenly, we were inside …

Of course, after entering, it always became obvious that nothing clandestine was occurring. The employees were turning coal into electricity, not cracking international spy codes. Still, the smokestack (known as an emissions stack in 21st-century parlance) resembled a rocket silo (at least in my 8-year-old mind), the coal conveyor line had definite fight-scene possibilities, and the sizzling transformers provided a mad-scientist type soundtrack for our fantastic visits.

(Bear with me; I grew up in rural Indiana, not Monaco.)

My memories of my dad aren’t hitched to his job. He was well-respected at the plant, seemed to enjoy working there, and usually left its frustrations inside that automated gate. Proud as he was of that occupation, it didn’t define him. He seldom mentioned work, unless asked.

Fortunately, as a guy raised during the Depression, my father was never without a job, and was grateful for that.

On this coming Father’s Day, millions of dads across Indiana and the country will be, like it or not, thinking about work. It’s not hard to understand why. Since this stubborn recession began last year, 4.5 million American men have lost jobs, according to a Reuters report based on research at Northeastern University. Predominantly male industries such as construction, financing and manufacturing have been hit the hardest. Men account for 80 percent of the jobs shed, so far. In May, 9.8 percent of men in the U.S. labor force were unemployed. (The jobless rate for women stood at 7.5, which is also painfully high, but nonetheless lower than that of men.)

Those numbers don’t include millions of fathers still working but worried. They’re concerned about their own job stability, wage cuts, longer hours and greater demands, and paying for the kids’ college tuition, vehicles and lights. Those who run their own businesses may wonder whether their savings will hold out through the downturn in customer traffic. Spirits and pride have been shaken.

One year ago on Father’s Day, life wasn’t exactly carefree for dads. Gasoline prices in Terre Haute hovered at $3.98 a gallon, on their way to a peak of $4.18 by the end of last summer. However, the grip of this recession had not fully tightened on Indiana’s manufacturing-based economy. The overall jobless rate in the Hoosier state was 5.7 percent.

Now, it’s 9.9 percent.

Indeed, June 21, 2009, is not your father’s Father’s Day. Job losses and pay reductions haven’t hit dads this heavily since the 1940s, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.

This holiday should not be an exercise in male whining or pity, or a gender gripe session. Women also intensely feel the impact of employment uncertainty and the changing job market. But Father’s Day comes just once a year, thanks to Richard Nixon. (I believe that’s the first time I’ve ever written those last four words in an unsarcastic manner; President Nixon signed the Father’s Day observance into law in 1972.) So, this Sunday, dads could use a little extra, heartfelt encouragement from their loved ones more than in years past.

If they’re out of work, thank them for all they do elsewhere.

If they’ve taken a cut in pay or hours, tell them you appreciate their sacrifice.

If their employment options are limited, let them know you respect their determination to help support your household by pursuing a job they normally wouldn’t consider.

If their job search has grown cold, offer to help find new connections.

No matter what, make sure dads realize they have your faith, respect and affection, regardless of where they earn a paycheck. As Sunday approaches, spend a few moments this week thinking of small ways to lighten a father’s spirits. Memories, like those I found on weekend adventures at the power plant with my dad, had more to do with spending time together, and little to do with wages or status. Being a good dad is an important job.

• Mark Bennett can be reached at (812) 231-4377 or mark.bennett@tribstar.com