Here are some favorite memories of my dad, as well as some photos from over the years.
My mom has most of the photos from when they were young, but over the years I have snitched a few. This is one of my favorites. Here Dad is age 12 (still in short pants, so we know it was taken before his bar mitzvah).
My dad was very proud of his service to his country during World War II. This was taken in 1945 with his parents.
My parents visited cousins in California in 1985. Ray and Dad used to play cribbage together all the time.
You can see the passion my dad brought to his marriage with my mom in this pic, taken at the surprise 36th anniversary party Susan, David and I threw for them in 1985. Why a 36th anniversary party? Susan and I were too young to plan their 25th, and to tell the truth, we missed their 35th. So throwing a double chai 36th anniversary party seemed like the best choice.
This is of course the father-daughter dance at our wedding in 1995. When my dad suffered his stroke in 1989, he confided to me that he was worried that he wouldn't be able to dance with me at my wedding.
While we were dancing, Dad accused me of leading. I insisted I was NOT leading. I asked, "What dance are you doing?" Dad said, "I'm doing the foxtrot." I shot back, "Dad, they're playing a waltz!"
At their 50th wedding anniversary party, the air conditioning in the hotel had gone south and we were all sweltering in the Cincinnati summer heat. Not Dad!
Rik took this photo of Dad tinkering with the old 8 mm film projector. When Susan and I were kids, a favorite family pastime was to watch home movies. Mom, Susan and I would sit on the steps leading down to the basement. Dad would set up the projector on the ironing board and pull out an old free-standing screen.The movies were shot on 8 mm and Super 8 film. Mom and Dad would reminisce over the oldest films, taken when they were teens and first married, then we would retell the stories of family vacations. Talk about early adopters -- my parents had a "video" camera in the 1940s!
Dad, zichrono l'vrachah, may your memory be a blessing to all who knew you.