Pure and simply put, George was special; a wonderful older brother who we all adored. Thank you, George. This poem is for you. (Note: post updated with new photo at 12:15 pm)
Personal
What would make a flatlander from Indiana and Michigan decide the best way to enjoy the great outdoors was put on a backpack and hike thousands of feet up a mountain?
Baseball memories from 1945, school days, with old well wore mitts, smiling long-lost friends, it’s all about the game.
At night I would lie awake in the roll away bed in the far corner of the living room in the two-room apartment dominos still…