|Dad, me, in 1967 on Grandpa Nota's riding lawn mower|
|Dad's parents in front of their home in Neffs, Ohio|
He came home and slept for three days. When he woke up, he told his mother he would never go back the coal mines. He left the hills of south-east Ohio for the north, eventually finding work in Akron, Ohio. I am sure he could not stay at home without doing something to bring in money during this time.
|Summer of 1941, I think this is the weekend they met.|
|204 West Main Street, Norwalk, Ohio, judging by my power mullet, 1987|
|Dad in the screened in porch he built. He spent hours out there,|
surrounded by his plants, reading Zane Gray novels about the West.
|Dad in the 1970s, while he was Norwalk City Councilman.|
Dad's life ended in the fall of 2008 when he tripped over a bump in the sidewalk near the house he and Mom had lived in since 1988 on Pitt Street. Despite being frail, blind from a long term illness, suffering hearing loss from a grendade that landed in his fox hole, and the weak heart that carried him through the Depression, being a prisoner of war, and raising a family, his death was the result of his restlessness and unwillingness to stay in side on a beautiful, Sunday afternoon.