The baby and his mom
He grew, as children usually do. He went to school...
He became a man. Then came time for the man to serve his country.
Serving at Ft. Dix
He married, and had a daughter.
The man and his first little girl
He joined the State Police Force and moved to a small town in Virginia, where he was part of a 2-man police force, keeping order in a town where little ever happened, other than the occasional belligerent drunk who had to be restrained, or a traffic accident, or a speeding ticket. There were a few major crimes over the years, but mostly it was a quiet little town with normally law-abiding residents.
He used to love to tell the story about the day he took his wife to lunch in a neighboring town. He was not on duty at the time, so he was dressed in "civilian" clothes. A local woman walked up to the table and spoke to his wife, then turned to him and said "Oh, Howard! I almost didn't recognize you in your clothes!". You can imagine the thoughts that ran through the minds of everyone within hearing!
He had so many stories, and everyone who knew him always wanted to hear them. He had mastered the art of story-telling, and would talk as long as you would listen.
After 15 years on the force, he switched directions and became a hairdresser (talk about a change in occupations!). He had developed an interest in the business when his wife became a hairdresser and opened a salon in their home. Over the years he owned a series of beauty salons and schools where he trained many women (and some men) in the art of hairdressing. When asked about the radical change in professions, he often said he much preferred working with women to hauling drunks off to jail...a statement that always seemed to satisfy people's curiosity!
As time passed, he became father to a son and, much later, another daughter. He became a grandfather, and eventually a great-grandfather. He sold his beauty salon and officially retired, but he still traveled to various customers' homes to cut their hair, or give them perms for many years.
All of his children.
Some of his grandchildren.
The man and the only great grandsons he would ever know.
The man was, I'm sure you've guessed it, my father, my hero. He left this life almost 6 years ago, at the age of 78, and not a day goes by that I don't think about him, or wish I could tell him something, or ask his advice about something. He was a man of many talents, who loved his family, fishing, and gardening, not always in that order. He loved a good joke, never met a stranger and was a friend to many.
Thank you for taking this trip down memory lane with me, and thanks to Mama Kat for the writing prompt this week. May you always cherish those you love.
Linking to Mama Kat's.