|My Dad as a teenager in the |
You see, there was never anyone in this world smarter than my Dad. He knew everything, knew how to do anything, could solve any problem. He could drive over winding roads through mountainous terrain, pointing things out to us through the side windows, the whole time never looking at the road, and yet stay safely in his lane, always aware of exactly where he was. Now my Dad can't remember the word for "glass" and drinks coffee creamer if someone doesn't stop him. If he's in his own home and my mom is in sight, he's ok; otherwise, he gets confused and disoriented.
|My Dad on the far right. Get a load of that mug.|
I'm thinking he didn't want his picture taken...
God willing, if I play my cards right, I'll get to heaven someday where I'll get another chance to have a good non-argument with that man -- my Dad. And I expect he'll still be the winner. He'll still be right. And that'll be OK.
|My Dad and his shipmates in an audience with Pope Pius XII in the late '50s I think.|
He's on the pope's right side, about 6 sailors over in the first row standing.
|Mom and Dad, with Steve, me and Greg in the front row, Nina in Mom's arms.|