Letters From Home

My father would have been 86 today.  He always made sure that people knew that when the bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, it was August 6 in Japan but only August 5 in the USA, and therefore the bomb was NOT dropped on his birthday.  He was pretty adamant about that. 

He went his own way in life, from the very beginning (although I don’t think his parents appreciated the fact that he was a world class picky eater–certainly my mom didn’t).  He chose his own profession, teaching, and was a genuine star.  There are still people who took his classes decades ago who tell me and my brothers how good he was.

He handled the inevitable slings and arrows of life and even though he faded out through the last decade of his life with Alzheimers he never stopped being Dad.  For that, my brothers and I are forever grateful.

Happy birthday, Dad.  You’re still the greatest.

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