[redwitch]

My father was truly my hero. I worshipped the ground he walked on and I still do. He died when I was 12 years at the very young age of 36. He gave me morality. My sense of right and wrong. He taught me to judge a person by their words and actions, not their race (pretty impressive for a Kentucky hillbilly who was taught prejudice from the cradle). He taught me that being uneducated was not sinful but refusing to learn was shameful. He taught me that being afraid was not shameful but that letting that fear rule my life was unforgiveable. He constantly reminded me that the only thing of value I would ever own was my word. He taught me that as long as I could look myself in the mirror at the end of a day, I had succeeded.

My father, like many of yours, was generous to a fault. He was also careful to give in a way that left the other knowing he'd done Dad a favor by taking whatever it was. He accepted people as they were -- it didn't matter what your rank or station in life was, it didn't matter what your skin color or religion was, it didn't matter if your sexual preference was male, female or whatever. He accepted you as you were. He only asked that you not harm another out of cruelty, vindictiveness or pettiness.

He quit school to join the Army. While traveling around the world with two kids and a wife and an incredibly trying job, he managed to not only get his high school diploma but ended with a Ph.D. in philosophy. He worked up (and down) the ranks. He should have died a major but his C.O. pulled some strings and he ended dying a full bird. He was comfortable at a formal embassy dinner. He was just as comfortable brewing up some shine and sharing it with his men.

He had his flaws: an incredible fear of needles; he had a temper that would put any redhead to shame; he could drink a fish under the table; my mother had been known to rap him on the head more than once for cursing in front of the kids; he could be pigheaded and didn't have the sense to back down from a fight -- whether the neighborhood bully or the general he felt was an "unmitigated idiot who didn't know his head from his arse".

This kind, gentle, strong man was my father. Thank you for giving me an opportunity to brag about him. I keep hoping that one day I will be half the person he was.