
The black & white photo was taken in the '40's or '50's. It was probably at his work. He's wearing his suit, as always, and holding his pipe. He looks rather like a gangster here.
My favorite memories of him are at Christmas.
I think this man was born for Christmas. He was just as excited as my brother and me. Every year, he went to the stadium and bought a white flocked tree. The red smoking jacket he's wearing in this picture is something he wore all the time. The dachshund he's holding is Tiny, who really wasn't tiny at all. Her belly was bald because it drug the ground. My grandmother fixed her a slice of bacon and an egg every morning.We lost him to a heart attack in 1976, 4 days before my 16th birthday.
No comments:
Post a Comment