Monday, October 26, 2009


My Dad, Harry, is the oldest of five. He was born in 1945 on a military base in Virginia, lived in Queens, but moved upstate to Ashland when he was seven. I imagine he was always outside from that point on. His parents had chickens, he was given a rifle at 11, so he hunted and trapped. He read a lot growing up and hitchhiked. He graduated top of his class and moved to the city to study engineering at Manhattan college. He joined the navy and retired as a captain after 26 years. He studied architecture at Harvard and has an extensive book collection. During the week, he was always home on the 6:15 train from the city to have dinner with his family and he never misses mass on the weekend. Now retired, he wants to travel more after his recent trip to China. I have to call the house at noon to catch him nowadays, he is usually outside doing something, building a stone wall, chopping wood, painting the side of the house. Oh did I mention he loves to ski. He used to call me a noodle and now he writes me letters.

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