Jacob, my grandson, has grown from a baby to a kindergarten boy. He took the photograph of his laughing mother that you see on the first page. He looks like his mother and his daddy, and they look like each other.
Long ago, army brat, dog tag and security pass for Camp Mackall, North Carolina, soldiers boxing outdoors at night, with my father as judge, World War II, father shipping out to the pacific, mother and I living with grandparents in upstate New York.
Back to Boston in 1946 with father and mother who seemed to take a lot of afternoon naps, brother Stan born in 1947. Big debates on whether to name him Steven or Stanley. Agreement on NMI (army lingo for no middle initial).
to be continued …
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