Missing him

I have only a vague memory of going to work with my father when we lived in Pennsylvania.  The memory is one of me playing with the water cooler.  The cups were those little white cone shaped cups and I was really thirsty and kept filling them up.

The man absolutely loved to be in front of the camera as much as he loved being behind the camera.  I've never met anyone since that can smile and pose as quickly as he did when a camera was pointed his way.

This picture is from an event I should one day blog about because it was a typical Russ story.  This is the access to the attic where we had birds living.  This picture, as you can see from my apple-doesn't- fall-far-from-the-tree writing on the photo, was the beginning as he went up to survey the scene.

 Doing what he loved best on his farm.  Always ready with a hook and a pole near any type of water.

And he was damn good at it!

I found him out here golfing in the back yard one day.  Just practicing some chipping.  Took his photo.  Right after this shot he then looked up and posed for me as usual.

He was a kind, funny, gentle, man with a loud booming voice and large chest that didn't really go with his demeanor.  He enjoyed people.  He enjoyed talking.  He enjoyed his occasional Manhattan.  I learned a lot from him, and hope that I keep his outlook on life.  Miss him.  Cheers Dad!