my older brother visits from Singapore usually once a year and this year we were discussing our father and what we thought of him;he was a good man, a good dad but you wouldn't want to make him mad.( he died in 1991, and my brother agreed). as long as you played by his rules everything was fine, and there were times in my childhood, especially in my childhood that i would feel the sting of his belt or watch my brother fly across a room, although my brother probably deserved this i on the other-hand am nearly a saint but not quite, i did some of my own flying but normally it was into my dad's clinched fist. wayne did have a temper but the majority of the time he was an excellent father always encouraging us athletically and scholastically. growing up he was always taking us on trips/vacations to canada for fishing\leisure, florida for leisure, or to Cincinnati for a reds game,once to columbus, ohio for a columbus checkers hockey game, basketball games, and i'm sure there was more. wayne always provided us with a mode of transportation: a new vega of our own in 1973(it was a piece of crap), "at least for my brother and myself and my younger brother" then a Volkswagen beetle. i suppose we were spoiled but we didn't know any better at the time. my older and younger brothers both were college graduates and he was proud of both of them.
in the sixties(1960's) for several years dad flew homing pigeons. on sundays a truck driver would take the pigeons of my father and of the other peoples(members of a pigeon club) hundreds of miles away and release them, the pigeons would instinctively fly home and who's ever would arrive home first would win. i have absolutely know idea what?(possibly a donut?) but they would win. in the seventies my father ran for and became mayor of thornville. thornville's a small town in ohio with around 1000 people, my father became mayor simply to remove the police chief and for some reason the policeman remained thornville's policeman and my father served only one term possibly because of teenage son's or son.
now when i look back on my childhood i think of all the things that i did or didn't do and wish that i could change but oh frick'n well, i wouldn't change wayne, except for his temper.
in the sixties(1960's) for several years dad flew homing pigeons. on sundays a truck driver would take the pigeons of my father and of the other peoples(members of a pigeon club) hundreds of miles away and release them, the pigeons would instinctively fly home and who's ever would arrive home first would win. i have absolutely know idea what?(possibly a donut?) but they would win. in the seventies my father ran for and became mayor of thornville. thornville's a small town in ohio with around 1000 people, my father became mayor simply to remove the police chief and for some reason the policeman remained thornville's policeman and my father served only one term possibly because of teenage son's or son.
now when i look back on my childhood i think of all the things that i did or didn't do and wish that i could change but oh frick'n well, i wouldn't change wayne, except for his temper.
