As Father's Day approaches, I frequently find myself thinking about my dad. He's been dead for forty-seven years. The picture of the two of us chatting was taken in 1957 at our summer home in Cohassett, Washington. I was still in high school.
To read an essay I wrote about my father, published in 2008, click on this link. In the photo in the newspaper essay, my older, and only, sister is the other child pictured.