My father served for more than 60 years as secretary of the University Kiwanis Club in Seattle. It wasn’t his profession. It was his passion. He saw it as his way to give back to the community and do good in the world. In 1977 he was chosen by Kiwanis as the “Man of the Half-Century,” an honor that brought tears to his eyes. He was a “good man” in the eyes of his community and his family. I loved him, but…
Last week, in sorting through family pictures and memorabilia I ran across a letter he wrote to my godparents in 1960. It was written after he and my mother returned from a trip to New Orleans and Miami. Near the end of the letter he wrote:
