My Dad.  A kind, sort of quiet guy.... until you got him to talking, then came the stories. I miss hearing his stories.  Tales of "when I was a kid".... "the show cost a nickel, but we were poor, so my brother and cousins and I snuck into the theatre." you know, those kind of stories.  Then there was WWII.  Wow.... the older I get the more I appreciate what he must have gone through.  He was a 'pre-flight engineer' in the US Army.  He had the last say of whether a plane could take off, or not.  One of his worst memories was of a flight out of St. Louis on a cold, icy night.  A young "officer" decided my dad didn't know #@!$% about flying, so he disobeyed the grounded order, and loaded about 50 soldiers, and himself and .... well .... the outcome was a fatal disaster.  My father would describe the scene with tears in his eyes, and pain in his heart.  All those young lives gone in an instant, just because a "know-it-all" pilot had to have his way.  I learned very young to listen to Dad. He knew a LOT of things, and I wanted to learn from his experience.

Dad we miss you. Miss your hearty laugh. Your stories. Your insistence to "buy Made in USA"....  Today I talk, and I hear my Dad talking.... Thank you for all the sacrifices that you made while providing for your family.

There are many stories I could share, but not today.  Today I share the Love that my Dad had for family. I Love and miss you terribly Dad, and I look forward to when we meet again.
Hugs. oxoxoxoxox


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