.....Once upon a 1954, there was this 17 year-old lad, full of dreams and wonderment who went off to Minneapolis on a hot June day, to begin the schooling that would prepare him for a career in broadcasting...

.....The Chevy was visible from the kitchen window. That’s where Dad chose to watch...and not cause a fuss. At 92, he knew that the Demon: Time, wins the battle. I, however, know that his Civility, Propriety, Integrity and Loyalty, won the War!

I stood behind and watched him as he steadied himself on his walker, stooped-shoulders draped with Mom’s homemade shawl. There was a light snow falling that cold winter morning. He peered through the frost-covered window as they hooked his car to the tow truck and yanked it from its place outside their kitchen door. When it was gone, up the street and around the corner, he turned away. We looked at each other, man to man. It was a long silence. His hands were flexing on the aluminum of his only remaining means of independent mobility, his walker.