1927-2012
Sunday afternoons in autumn, sitting on the brick front porch steps of our Virginia Dutch Colonial. I'm nine years old; my brother Daniel, is a baby, my littlest brother (the seventh child) isn't even a twinkle yet. My favorite pal and brother, Greggy, and I are discussing methods of actually flying in the next windstorm -- something having to do with black trash bags. The smell of Sunday afternoon dinner wafts out the open living room window. The oak and maple trees stretching way up over us are sifting red and orange leaves slowly down through their bony fingers...
And this man's album is playing inside. Strains of Moon River drift out with the smell of meatloaf and gravy...
Andy Williams, God bless him, gave much that was good to the world. May he rest in peace.
1 comment:
i loved his christmas specials.
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