This is a sketch my mother did of her father January 31, 1942, just a few days after Pearl Harbor Day. She was twelve years old. It is better than any photograph she has of him.
The delightful photograph above is my brother-in-law’s favorite photograph, made with his mother, when he was five years old. My mother gifted him with this portrait of the two of them, based on that photo. Let me know if you’d like an illustration done,
Mother and Daddy were bipolar, as a couple, not individually. Daddy was generous with tales of his life on the wild side intended to edify and occasionally entertain. In his youth, he’d selfishly used up the family quota of sin, carousing, drinking, gambling, fighting, and honky-tonking to his heart’s content. Reforming after marrying Mother, he Continue reading