He was one complicated dude. Father of four. Race car driver. Plumber. Boxer.
His mother died when he was young and perhaps that is where the turmoil began.
My dad had it tough. His second child was born with cerebral palsy and had 26 surgeries before she was 20. Back when there was no such thing as health insurance.
It was a different childhood for me. I think he did the best he knew how with regard to raise me to become a good man. Thunder hands and all. It must have worked.
I’ve never been arrested, never did drugs, always respected my elders. I discovered if I kept silent I stayed under his radar.
He died during my first year of grad school. He knew me as a photojournalist but never as a professor and chair of two departments, simultaneously, at my former university (where I served a 25-year sentence… maybe I did get arrested???).
I’ve never posted or talked about my dad until now. Father’s Day 2025. Look at his little face. He was a good son to my Nono, his father.
Happy Father’s Day dad.
