Dad



Lynn and Dad dancing at our wedding eleven years ago



Mom, my brother and Dad at the farm, before I was born



Dad, his sister Helen and brother Ernie, long ago



In a week, it will be five years since my Dad passed away from cancer. I owe everything to him. My Dad, the engineer who taught me how to think creatively. My Dad, who every week drove me to Boy Scouts till I became an Eagle Scout just before my eighteenth birthday. My Dad, who used the Dodge dump truck (shown in the previous post) to build the road that goes to the family farmhouse.

He hated wearing a suit and tie, because he'd had enough of dressing for someone else in the army. He happily donned a white dinner jacket for my wedding, because I'd always thought he looked like Bogie from Casablanca. He had two boys, and doted upon the women we married.

Rugged, individualistic, libertarian before that was a type of politics. He was a stand up guy, who in his older years I still wouldn't have wanted to be on the wrong end of. Yet he was gentle and kept himself in control. He was a man who knew, loved and understood history, and along with my Mom collected a vast number of books.

I see him in my brother, as he raises his family. I hope my brother can see him in me.

If I can raise my boys as he raised me, I will have done well.

I miss you, Dad.