Dad is dead. He was a with the 1st Marines at the Chosin Reservoir when the Chinese attacked in the night. It made him nuts, I guess. Before I was born, they tell me about the time he shot the plumbing with a .45 sidearm in the basement when the sink clogged up. Problem?...solution. My dad was the greatest dad to ever live. He took me and my brothers and my kid sister to Panther Gorge on the trail to Mt. Marcy. We never made it to the peak, but we cooked beans and instant coffee and slept in lean-tos in the woods because Dad wanted us to be able to survive. 20 years later, I threw the old man in a borrowed van with my wife and kid sister and headed off to the Adirondacks. Long story short: Dad was too old to walk the last half mile, we didn't push him, he was exhausted walking the first 9 miles. Me and my wife and my sister made it to the summit. We could see Dad sitting down below by the rocks. He waved to us and smiled. I love my daddy. Happy Fathers Day.