December 4, 1919

Nobody reading this, apart from my brother, will care, but today, December 4, 2019, would have been my dad's 100th birthday. My dad was a flawed man, but he was a good man. A brave man, who valued honor above everything but family. For us he would have stolen, even killed. But that was unnecessary, because old fashioned American industry fueled his inner engine, and he tirelessly labored to make sure we had every need, and most wants, fully met.

He was my hero. He had feet of clay in boots of iron. I've seen him fight and I've seen him love. War lifted him from the fate of every Arkansas share cropper, and at the end, he could buy and sell most men. 

The last words he ever said to me was "I love you." He used that phrase with far too much economy, but when he said it you understood he was serious.

He is beyond my hearing, but I must say the words meant more for my brother and I than he...Happy Birthday, dad. We love you.