Memories of my father.

My very first memory of Dad was in our kitchen in Clinton, NY, when I was 4 (1950). He was teaching me to write my name. I noticed that my mother was crying at the kitchen table and asked Dad what was wrong. He said I was going to have a new brother or sister and that Mom was feeling emotional. A short time later my sister Janice was born.

In 1954 my mother was pregnant again and close to her due date. We were staying with my Grandma Freund. It was in the middle of Hurricane Hazel, the biggest hurricane I ever experienced. Dad and I were sleeping in his bed and Mom was downstairs, when he had to get up and take her to the hospital, in spite of fallen wires and trees and dire warnings to stay inside. That night my sister Judi arrived.

One of my most poignant memories occurred in 1957 when my mother made Dad move out. He and I walked about a mile to an elementary school and sat on its steps to talk. Soon we were both crying.

In 1961 I was a sophomore in high school, and I ran away from my mother on a snowy day. I walked awhile and then called my father. He was living with Grandma Freund at that time. He picked me up and took me in. We drove home together singing, "Side By Side".

He was working for Syracuse Vending then, a company that grew and thrived largely because of Dad's expertise and efforts. One night I was with him and the owners of the company in Moran's Rathskellar in Manlius, NY. Dad wouldn't let me drink, of course, but things did get rowdy. At one point he ripped my shirt half off, which I thought was great fun. But when we got home, Grandma was furious!

In 1963 Dad and I were living in an apartment on Butternut Street in Syracuse, when he told me that he was going to marry Dottie and move to Arizona. I didn't want to leave my high school or my girlfriend, so I stayed in Syracuse and lived with my mother again. After that, Dad and I didn't see each other very much.

Last October was Dad's 90th birthday, and my wife, Twila, and I went to Florida to help him celebrate. He was enthusiastic, always ready to do something, and flirting with waitresses, as always. He said it was his best birthday ever. That was the last time I saw him.

Dad was the most alive person I've ever known. He was always upbeat and active and more than happy to argue politics. I was sure he was going to live to be 100, and I can't believe he's gone.

I love you, Dad.