Another Father’s Day has come and gone, but memories linger of a father I thought I knew well.
For two decades we were a happy family with Mom and my younger brother, Ransom, until the onset of Mom’s mysterious paralysis a few months after her hysterectomy performed by the family doctor. She believed his lack of skill during that specialized procedure caused her eventual debility.
As the family of a newspaper editor in the San Francisco Bay Area during World War II and the following decade, we lived a privileged life.
To be continued . . .