Sandra Brown's "White Hot" Read

On my way out the door, I must include this book. If I let this set aside until we return I'll surely forget it. Sandra Brown is one of my favorite trashy reads. She's not that trashy, no f-words, none of that, but she's hardly literate. Sandra Brown is always a good woman's read and some call it a thriller genre. "White Hot" is the saga of the Hoyles in Destiny, La. From the Daddy who rises to own the foundry by marrying the owner's daughter, the book chronicles the saga of his children. It culminates with Danny's death and Sayre's return home. Sayre is the long estranged daughter. After the cemetery, burial Sayre meets Beck Merchant, the hired attorney, loyalist to her father and family. The story really ends with a surprise so I will not give it away! This has to be one of Sandra's best. I loved it and will pass it along. A great summer read!

Helps from Beyond

My aunt Virginia passed on Tuesday. We'd been on alert vigil with hospice beginning July 2 on our way home from WY. I last talked to her on July 4 by phone while the hospice nurse was there. I told her she could close her eyes and sleep peacefully now, not to worry about a thing, I had it all handled,that I love her and she had been like another mother to me. It was hard for her to talk but she did and said, "I'm trying to just go to sleep." So when the call came at 4:45AM Tuesday, July 7, I was expecting it.

I've made all arrangements through Rusciewicz funeral home there. They have attended to all the funerals in my family, grandparents and perhaps even my grandmother's father. It's a long time Polish relationship. What a good thing!

We will use this photo for her obituary which I will not run until we arrive in PA. It was taken at her 50th high school reunion, several years back. It did me good to look through old photos when her life was good. I especially love the big black and white one of her at PPG driving the forklift! I wrote a story about her back in 1989 while I was enrolled in a state/federal intergovernmental year long executive program. somewhere I still have that in my collections and will have to get it together with other photos. She enjoyed a full life up until this recent siege with cancer. Age 87 is enough. As her husband, my favorite Uncle John would say, usually when someone had passed and people were sad, "Just how long to people have to live anyway before they can die.?"

We will be in PA Saturday when I will tell my 91 year old Uncle Carl, her brother. I just prefer to do that in person. No telling how his mind will take this. And too he might just forget.

Aunt Jinx was adamant over the last years that she wanted no funeral, no viewing and that's fine with me. But talking with the funeral home, Bill asked, "do you want a mass?" I agreed that for my uncle's sake and probably mine too that would be good. So we will have the mass and then go right to burial at the cemetery on Tuesday July 14.

So yesterday I called the church to request two hymns--In the Garden and Be Not Afraid. No problem. About an hour later, Bill Rusciewicz called me and the conversations went like this. "Pat how are you doing?" "Oh good, we will be there Saturday." "Pat, you called the church to request a couple hymns?" "Yes." "Well, trouble is you called the wrong church. You called St. Margaret Mary's." "Oh I thought that's where it would be. My uncle goes there and it is closer to the cemetery." "No, I have it for St. Mary's in New Ken." "Oh that's our family's home church, where I was baptized, had first communion, confirmation, etc." "Yes, I know that so that's why I scheduled it there."

Seems I caused some long distance head scratching. When the Monsignor talked to the secretary he knew there was no funeral scheduled at St. Margaret Mary's. So he called Bill.

Well not a problem anyway. Just that I'd been telling people the wrong church. OK so I can make those calls again and tell others when we arrive. I called St. Mary's and spoke with their secretary who had a good laugh. She said, "It was just meant to be." I explained that I always check in at my home church when I'm in PA but that in May I was far too busy to get there. And even though I am no longer a practicing Catholic, there is still that draw with my church (as well as some Catholic practices that stay with me.)

I had to laugh. I thought of Aunt Jinx up out in the peaceful beyond. I believe her spirit has linked up with my best friend Roberta who passed years back. Roberta still has fun with me! I think their conversation went something like this.."I didn't want anything, just to be buried." "Well funerals are for the living not for the dead." Let's have some fun now..." All's well and all will go on. Proving once again that people need to watch over me and my actions. I'm on one of my rolls now---busy, busy, busy....Jerry keeps an watchful eye on me. But this time help from beyond was in order too.

I knew she had her plot paid for right there alongside my grandparents and her husband at Greenwood. But while in PA I could not find any other funeral arrangements. But Bill called me Tuesday evening with "good news." His sister recognized the name and looked through their records--sure enough she had paid for her vault when Uncle John died. She also had selected her casket giving nstructions to them that she wanted the same as John's. So I am thankful I will not have to choose a casket--I was not looking forward to that chore! Thanks Aunt Jinx!

In these last years, I'd just call her Jinx, dropping the aunt. The Jinx comes from the Polish for Virginia, Vircwinka. I can't spell that either.

Now I flash back to the Polish for aunt, "CZOCZI?" I can't spell it but most of my life I called her CZOCZI. One day while visiting in PA years ago, I was in my 30's and at my mom's. I said, "Wonder when Czoczi & Uncle John are coming over..." Mom snapped at me and said, "Don't you think you are old enough now to call her Aunt Jinx? Why do you keep saying that word?" I'd never thought about it, it was a natural to me. It didn't bother my aunt, but my mother? Who knows why, Mom was strange at times. But from that time on I'd dropped the czoczi (pronounced, chouchee). A few years ago,Jinx asked me why I'd quit calling her czoczi. And I told her I didn't know but that Mom had blasted me for it. She said, "Oh you know your mother just always has to say something..." I never spoke much Polish, but as a child I heard it. I can still say some Polish prayers which my grandmother taught me. And I guess I just picked up the Polish and used it.

And another thing. Tuesday I spent so much time on the phones between my cell and home phone. I'd be talking on the home phone and the cell would ring, and vice versa. So tiring! I commented, "I am sick of these phones!" Bingo yesterday after Bill's call, I tried to call my dentist to reschedule. No phones. Of course the cell still worked. But all the phones were off. It seems there was a massive power outage all over town. A cable had been dug out during some road construction. Phones were off for several hours. So I did get the peace and quiet from the phones ringing! More curves from beyond? Let's help our Patty down there....Who knows....I only know that I've always had people beyond watching out for me. At least I believe that! And now, one more has joined my heavenly hosts!

RIP Aunt Jinx.

So our first Motor Home Rally comes to an end; it was a fun different experience here in Gillette, WY sponsored by Fleetwood Motor Coach. Over 800 from all over the country gathered. We would attend another depending where it would be held. But I will not volunteer again. There is enough to do. We met many fun folks and some not so fun. Here are some of my observations:

People are funny. Today at the feedback session for the Fleetwood owners of Class A's many complained and wanted features that are available. Their problems were that they purchased cheaper models (Bounders) and wanted deluxe features which we enjoy on our Southwind and others do on their Pace Arrows, Revealations, etc.

People who do not drink wine should not be in charge of selecting the wine for cocktail hours. I was horrified to find the cheapest wines being poured from a box. There are many drinkable box wines., but what did these people offer? Chablis and Burgundy by Inglenook! Rot gut! I would not even cook with that. Who has ever heard of Chablis in this day of Chardonnay & Pinot Grigio, Sauvignon Blanc?

People cannot read. Though it was clearly advertised as a women's RV driving school for $65, men enrolled too. Some then argued about the cost which was supposed to be prepaid with registration. That was quite an experience for me. Driving a 40' diesel; primarily spending 2 hours backing up through S curve maneuvers again and again. This was my first ever experience behind the wheel and I had to back up! I, who will drive 10 miles out of my way to avoid backing up my SUV! My instructor was a nice gal from Applegate, CA who drives school bus in Rocklin, CA. Small world. I did it though and never hit a cone! The point was to use the side convex mirrors.Not for nothing was this course called Boot Camp! Me, I just want to go forward! That was not the deal (or should I say ordeal). The instructor said if you can back up the rest is easy. Well for perspective, our motor home is not a diesel, so the air brakes were another story; engaging and releasing the parking brake was a challenge in itself. My 91 year old uncle Carl got quite a kick out of hearing about my experience! I had to hear and was expected to absorb a lot about mechanical functions, which glazes my eyes over. Rolls right over me like water off a duck's back! The instructor said, "well it's good to know." I said, "Not for me. That's Jerry's job." She said "He might need help sometime." I assured her it would not be from the likes of me. I explained that I married a man with technical mechanical expertise; it has worked for me for 42 years and I intend to not mess with success. Besides I just don't get it, have 10 thumbs, and think the way to fix anything is with a hammer. BTW she showed us how to check tires with a hammer--that was my favorite part. I inherit hammeritis from my grandpap; use a hammer! Steve and Jerry would shudder when they saw me with a hammer in my hand. Give it a good pound, that's my philosophy! I left with a whole new respect for Jerry and other good RV drivers. It is not something I'll want to take over; leave the driving to him!

We met Norm and Gordy from Vancouver, BC. They were long time friends, traveling together because one's wife had just returned from an Alaskan cruise and didn't want to go on this trip. We learned that Gordy's wife has Alzheimers an his son is battling cancer. He is carrying a heavy load. Norm wanted to get Gordy away for relief and relaxation. Then he asked if I would send Gordy a card later on simply saying something like "Gordy it was good to see you at the rally! Hope you come to another one!" And Norm said, "please don't sign it! It will drive him nuts!" You get the idea they were fun! Gordy had never heard of sloppy Joe's, so that was all new to him. While he educated us about octopus and how they grow very large before they breed.

Jerry was in his element talking to all the technicians and honchos from Fleetwood. Fleetwood has filed Chapter 11 and of course many RV owners are concerned. But we learned the motor home division has been purchased by American Industrial Partners a investment type firm which only buys up companies who mfg. and do business in the USA. They have holdings in firms which mfg. school buses, trucks, etc. Sounds like a good direction for Fleetwood. Remains to be seen where corporate headquarters will be. Good chance it will remain in Dectur, IL. Not a snowball's chance of CA as those attendees from CA hoped. What company in their right mind would venture to CA with heavy taxation and over regulation? Those who remain in CA know nothing else and cannot understand it. Years ago I heard "mediocrity knows nothing above itself." That's CA.

It has been a week where I almost fully escaped from geriatric worries. One series of phone calls regarding my aunt from the hospice care which set me into motion prevailing upon her good neighbors to help out. But otherwise I did get a break. This must be the purpose of vacations. Renew & refresh.

We heard tonight that the Rally is on the web at RVbusiness.com Check it out.

We looked at many (some more some less expensive than ours) motor homes in the exhibits, for sales, and I did not see one that I liked any better than ours. I think our decor inside and out is just perfect. Our layout is better than most. Jerry found nothing to stimulate any upgrade or trade up desires either. So Hooray for contentment with what we have. Here"s to more miles ahead....roll on!

Dandelion volunteers

I volunteered us to help out here at the rally when I sent our registrations. It would be kind and a way to meet folks! Yesterday I talked with a retired Army Col. & wife who are from GA but who RV full time. I was working at the "welcome wagon" where packets are given to the arriving RV'ers! He laughed "mam., I know you were not in the Army...else y'all would know not to ever volunteer!" No I wasn't but Jerry was Air Force and said the same thing. So there is another benefit to military service--a lifetime learned lesson to not step forward.

Today Jerry has parking director assignment here on the top of the hill where the motor homes will live for this event. Today it's beautiful clear blue sky & sunny butthe wind is blowing. We know it's WY where the wind seems to blow all the time. At least that's been our experience in our many trips to and through WY.

What a small world it is. He met a former customer from his Newcastle, Ca shop! There are several rigs here from CA and this guy was one of them. Also talked with another man from Marysville, CA.

Yesterday's cool rain translated to a trip to Wal Mart to get a windbreaker or some kind of cheap jacket. Listening to him and others I packed very light this trip! And, well you know what happens whatever I don't bring along I need! I brought only a very light sweat-hoodie. It had been warm in MN and warm here--it's summer. But be prepared is the watchword. I was a bit chilly at times.

Funny how in retirement I have become more acquainted with Wal-mart than I was with Nordstrom's during my career. Well maybe not quite. I did have a personal shopper at Nordstrom's. Traveling in the motor home, Wal Marts have become my store of choice--that's not quite as bad as a woman I talked to yesterday who drools when she spots a Dollar Store! Her husband said, "well she gets so little excitement in life now that I humor here by pulling off!" These men!

But the Wal Mart here in Gillette had nothing--not a single sweatshirt, not a jacket, zippo! Very small clothing section in a 24 hour super center yet! Phooey! But all is not lost, a Kmart is next door. Same thing--tank tops, some jr. clothes, capris, nothing with sleeves and very limited women's clothing. So now I wonder what happens when a woman from Gillette wants clothes? Does she drive to Casper? This will be my question of the trip. Maybe they order everything online. Who knows but I will investigate this curiosity. (BTW I found a great lightweight all purpose jacket at the Fleetwood vendor shop here at the rally. Snatched it up at $35; it's a Columbia which I've seen for $65 retail! And it will remain in the motor home! It matches the color of our rig. How cool is that?)

Today though sunshine abounds and I am ok with the shorts and tops I have. Which brings me to the dandelions. Volunteers were given free t-shirts and asked to wear them when on duty so we could be identified as such. Hysterically not my style--mens' type t-shirts in bright yellow with the WY logo in a black circle on the front left--and 3" black capital letters all across the back--"VOLUNTEER' Standing around with others we look like a field of dandelions! Ahh but let's just go along--ok I'll don it on duty. Then the next bit of humor, our coordinator announces, "please wear your tshirts to the banquet so you can be identified and thanked!" NOT NOT NOT, nyet, nunca, no way. I will tie it around my waist but I am not wearing this thing to two dinners! And Jerry, well he's not a tshirt guy either--short sleeve snap western cotton shirts are his leisure attire of choice.

So we will have to have our pictures taken as blooming dandelions. And I too will adopt the military lesson--don't volunteer!

PS I wrote this yesterday AM and then the wifi connection booted me out!It said, "..the maximum # of subscribers has been reached..." Then off I went! Well, I thought how rude, I WAS HERE FIRST!! Why not just deny access to someone trying to sign it. All's well as the draft was saved! I am glad I do not have to reconstruct these brilliant thoughts!

We are in Gillette, WY at the Fleetwood Rally

If you have followed me on Facebook, you have had the day by hour update of our travels. So here we be with about 800 (by tomorrow) other Fleetwood, motor home owners at the first ever Fleetwod sponsored rally. And we learned that this Fleetwood sponsored event is despite Fleetwood being in bankruptcy. But, an investment company from New York, American Family has bought the motor home operation. And a kind bankruptcy judge agreed to allow
Fleetwood to continue to sponsor this event!

We made our reservations in January and thought, we have never been to one, always wanted to..so. Keeping our fingers crossed that life does not toss in more of those flying monkeys that seem to upset and twist our plans.

We drove through South Dakota and I don't remember it ever being this lovely and green and lush. We have been through this area before, but this trip was notable. Crossing the Missouri River was breathtaking--that is how it must have struck the early pioneers. Yet today wonderful bridges span the crossing enabling us to drive over the clear blue waters. Breathtaking. Why travel across the world when we have such magnificent sites here in this country? How many have seen these wonders?

How in the 1800's with covered wagons did they cross these rivers? Driving through this area restores my sense of wonder about our American western heritage and history. Last night we stayed in a pasture set up for RV's by a local SD rancher, outside Wall, SD. Electric hook ups only but that beats Wal-Mart or the road side rest, and the cost $5! Quiet and we rested before heaving onward to our destination this morning. We were the only RV there despite seeing many on the roads. Maybe they went on to the Black Hills and opted for a more luxurious setting. It worked for us.

Near Ellsworth AFB there is a lot of growth and expansion from when we were last in this area--maybe 5 years ago. And Rapid City, SD has grown tremendously! Lots of new housing.

Gillette, WY is an area of contrasts. Mansions dot the hillsides here and there. And downward, trailer homes, modulars run down. Yet continue along and there are huge developments of what looks like thriving tract homes. Neighborhoods in growth. This is the west at it's best, no mistake. Wide rolling lush green hills, cattle grazing, and horses. Moreover, this is coal country and we noticed many train box cars loaded full of coal headed eastward to produce energy. Many individual solitary oil wells too are pumping that black gold from the ground.

Tomorrow we will be engaged in helping register arrivals and directing traffic of motor homes o appropriate parking spots. Motor homes are packed tightly here at the Camplex, a magnificent area with several RV sites. In addition there are horse barns (hey it's WY!) and rodeo arenas, a horse racing track circles another area and huge buildings where the vendors will exhibit all we would want in the RV world and more. The city of Gillette has all one could want--Wal Mart, gas stations, restaurants of any kind, etc. And it is 5 miles from here.

Today I learned something very exciting! I'm registered to take the women's RV driving school! So this eve at a gathering the women were all a twitter! "Are you taking the driving school?" "Yes I am." "Do you know we are going to drive a Heritage?" " A what?" I ask. "You don't know what a Heritage is?" "No I sure do not, I barely know what we have.." So the talk goes I learn that the Heritage is the TOP of this Fleetwood line. A coach worth about $900,000! So I say, "Well if they teach me well, I'll just drive it on back home!" Imagine me driving a nearly $1 million dollar vehicle! Now Jerry who breathed a heavy sigh of relief that I would not be driving our coach at this school has turned a bit green with envy. He knows what a Heritage is and just looks at me! Maybe he wishes he had signed up for the women's RV driving school!

Now this eve I am off for a lap around the complex. I wish we had brought my trike but I will be on foot! After we take some photos, I'll post.

JUNE 20, 1944 2nd. Lt. Lewis S Ball

That's my dad and mom's wedding photo taken at Maxwell Field AL, June 15, 1943. Little did they suspect it would only be a bit over a year later when they would not meet again this side of the clouds. They had met in PA at some Polish family wedding and after that Lou began to come to the house a lot. Helen dropped out of high school to follow him once he had been commissioned. Their marriage angered Anna Ball, his mother who said, "oldest son supposed to marry first." Little did they suspect he would never live to see his only child, me. Louie, that's what they called him, disappeared with his plane and crew somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean on the way back to Charleston, SC. I have read all I can find about the Bermuda triangle.

June 20 is the day before Father's Day this year. Father's Day always tormented me, I always felt strange pangs. I was raised in the home with my mother's 2nd husband, not a nice man, whom she married when I was not 3 years old. I used to fantasize that somewhere my dad was alive and would come back. Likely that fantasy was planted in my head by my grandmother, Anna Ball,my father's mother. She went to her grave believing that her Louie would someday come back home. She told me in her broken Polish accented English, " I never give up hope." I had very limited contact with my father's family though they lived very close. This was because of my mother, I know.

My Father Lewis S Ball was born April 3, 1922 to Frank and Anna Ball in Harwick, PA. I have memorialized him on the American World War II Orphans website. with words from one of his pilot training logs......"he holds the sky..." Without AWON I would not have searched for and known as much as I do today. But then you can read that story elsewhere on this blog. And you can check out my dad's website at AWON, our fathers pages at http://www.awon.org/awball.html

65 years ago, June 20, 1944 at 9:00PM started my mother's nightmare. Pregnant with me, 20 years old, and waiting in a small rented room in Charleston, SC, Helen began to wonder why Lou had not returned. Probably at a briefing--they did that with those flights. And there was always something that held the men up. The flight left Charleston for the Bahamas at 08:30 June 20th. He was a "new" B-24 pilot, appx. 84 hours total flight time through his "quick" pilots training with many others. It was wartime and training was accelerated. They evaluated Lou,"ready to command the B-24. Alert. Aggressive" Aviation was in it's early stages and instruments were rough at best. Today one could not pilot a Cessna with only 84 hours total time!

This would have been their nearly last stateside training flight. Lou and his combat crew 193, 113th group, 400th Bombadier group, 1st Air Force would soon head for Europe. Lou knew it would be England. He feared they would not return. In his gut he knew as did the other B-24 pilots, this was a bad business. Lou shared this fear only with Henry, his baby brother back home, swearing Henry to never tell that "your big brother is finally afraid. But if anything happens, remember that your big brother trusts in Heaven and God and you must too."

I learned this from Uncle Henry in 2002 at his & Aunt Pearl's 50th wedding anniversary in Grass Valley, CA. Uncle Henry was true to his vow to his big brother, he never said a word. That evening at their wonderful celebration my Uncle Henry hugged me and said, "Patty you are my only relative here tonight." I kidded with him and said, "Not so, there's Pearl and Larry and Diane and...." But he said, "no you know what I mean you are the only real Ball." As a present to Pearl and Henry who insisted NO Gifts, I'd copied photos of my dad in uniform with his parents and Henry as a boy when my dad was home on leave. Had these framed and mounted into a nice display which brought tears to Uncle Henry as he looked at his long lost brother. Larry Ball has that display today. Fitting because Larry, Henry's son resembles his Uncle Louie a lot, especially Henry said, in attitude, the kidding around, the love of family. That was my dad according to Uncle Henry. Everyone loved Louie! Just like they all loved Grandpap Frank Ball.

I've wondered how much they briefed the stateside B-24 pilots about D-Day. He surely knew something BIG was up in Europe. But here he was, one more maneuver to the Bahamas in the clunker B-24. Oh how he'd wanted to fly those P-38 fighters. Wasn't that every pilots dream? How did a boy from Harwick get into this mess! By choice, yes he'd volunteered. Oh his mom was so angry with him. After all she already had a son in the war, his older brother, Eddie. That was enough. But not for Louie! A post card which he never mailed to her reads, "don't worry Mom. Everything will be all right. We just have to trust in God." What faith, yes Lou was a devout Catholic boy. He'd been selected for pilot training after basic and his time as radio operator. How thrilled he was then. How happy. He'd made it big time!

Helen never knew of his fear but she knew he would soon ship out so she was in Charleston. She wanted as much time with him as she could get. He didn't have near the time to himself these days that he used to have in pre-pilot days. Back then he even had time to take photos of the other men. Photos I have today. No time for that now. Lou was ever consumed, busy with training, school, flying. I have some of his pilot study notes. They are in his big scrapbook which I pulled together to take with me to AWON conferences. It's a book that keeps growing!

But fate was cruel, that night 20:00 June 20, 1944 they radioed, "low on fuel, heading for Jacksonville...." Combat Crew 193 lost radio contact, they never returned from Morris Field, Bahamas. Were they near Jacksonville? Were they off course? Did the B-24 suddenly run out of fuel? Was it such an old clunker that there was a fuel leak, slow but not noticeable until critical? Or, were they flying low along the coast, as instructed, and did a German U-boat, surface at the same time. It would have sighted the plane and that would have been the instant end. I have several letters of detail about the search. Life rafts were dropped but found empty. But had those rafts been in the right area? How far off couse were they? Too many unanswered questions.

The young wife waited, but the men at the door were not Lou. Search planes and navy boats took off from Charleston. Never a trace found of Combat Crew 193, the 9 men (it was a training flight) and for me, I lost the father I'd never know. I'd enter this world in November, 5 months later. I have missed him all my life.

I watched the news and ceremonies at Normandy this year. I am always overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude for those who defended our freedoms. I have disdain for those today who trade our freedoms for socialism and who have a cowardice attitude while promoting talking, for those who blabber about our use of torture! Just imagine what a county we would have had if so many brave men like my father had not paid with the ultimate sacrifice! Imagine that just as I often imagine how my life might have been so very different if my dad had made it through.

Another read only worth mentioning

East of the Mountains by David Guterson

I tortured myself months back trying to read this book which I picked up somewhere, enticed that it was a hardback and even autographed by the author. That's most of the positive in it. It proves that an author who writes one good book may not do so again. I loved his "Snow Falling on Cedars", but this "East of the Mts." does not make the cut.

I struggled through page 230 of its 276 pages before shoving it onto the floor near my night time reading chair months back. I found it yesterday while vacuuming. Maybe it's a man's book written by one for them? The story line sounded interesting. Presented as a narration by Ben Givens, retired heart surgeon, new widower, who learns he has terminal colon cancer. Ben takes off into the Columbia Basin of central Washington state to avoid suffering further from the cancer and end his life. Well it doesn't happen. His trials and encounters on this journey were just bizarre and tortuous. He has flash backs to his military service days as well. I found it boring. Too boring to remember.

Some decent writing in this tale of woe. A reference to the heart...page203, .."in knowing the heart in this cold way, he had lost all innocence about it. It was not that he didn't believe in love, but first he was a scientist, a physician, and a man of reason. He'd manipulated the hearts of human beings and he thought he understood that when we speak of love, we speak of something transitory, something gone when we go. The heart for Ben was tangible, and nothing tangible remains."

This reference to sadness on page 206, "He felt removed from the world. Suffering suffused everything." Well I've felt sadness certainly the past year. But this book was a drag. Disappointment was what I felt reading this first edition, autographed by the author and published in 1999. It will be donated to our library book shelf or sale.

Compare the baby pics



My baby picture



Received an email last month from my cousin Carol who snapped a photo of the photo that hangs in her home of my dad as a baby with his oldest brother, Eddie, who was her dad.

I just love how cherubic they both look.

If my dad is about 1 year old in this the photo must have been taken about 1923. I just posted it onto Facebook and then the thought came, all my life I've been told that I look like my dad. So here I compare a baby picture of mine (Sepia pink) with his. I am not a year old in my photo, only many months or a few, but the face and the eyes. Oh yes.