PREFACE
Why write this now? I can't tell anyone for sure a complete set of reasons. Perhaps I'm
feeling my mortality. I've had a few close scrapes with death. One was when I was twenty and I didn't realize it. Another when I was forty-nine, a much more serious affair, that many thought I wouldn't recover from. Recently, my endocrinologist has told me he doesn't like some of my results for kidney function, and at my next scheduled appointment, I‘ll also being going to see nephrologist. I have gotten to the point where I dread seeing the doctors, since now it seems they always find some other problem. But I also realize how serious kidney trouble can be. I'm not ready to quit yet, and whatever happens, you can bet I'll fight. So maybe I'm anticipating problems that will never develop.
Perhaps another reason is the lack of information I've learned about my father. He didn't talk about himself much. I know where he was born, what schools he attended, what his job was. My brothers and I managed to get out of him that he was a radio operator on a B-17 during World War II, successfully completing 17 missions. He was stationed in England. Because of that two things were never served for dinner at our family's house: lamb or mutton, or spaghetti. Apparently they fed his unit a pretty steady diet of mutton and spaghetti. He never, ever talked about his war experiences. I could tell you reams about his skills from personal observation. But his life before I arrived in it is very murky to me. I don't want that to be the case with my daughters, or my wife.
If this ever gets out to the public, I'm sure some of the parties involved will recognized their parts. I haven't changed first names, and used only initials for last names. I mean none of them any harm, and only wish all of them the best. If I cause anyone else any pain, I very sincerely apologize. The name of the author at the beginning, is definitely a pseudonym, albeit not much of one, if you do a little work on languages. If you dig a little further using the clues in the story, it won't be that hard to figure out my true identity. My real name is plastered all over the web in several different capacities. If you figure out who I am, fine. I really don't care. I'm not sure exactly what has driven me to write this. But I feel I must write it. I've also been blessed/cursed with a nearly photographic memory. Of both the best happenings in my life, and of the worst, and everything in between, all are remembered in nearly complete detail. (There are occasional lapses.) I should say that everything written within is from my perception, my point of view.
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