Wanted to get this out while it was still relevant... Somewhat...

Pro was my dad's nickname, short for "Professor". He spent a lot of his youth during the depression in the YMCA library reading up on everything.... So, he knew a lot...

He survived WWII, the steel mill, the machine shop, raising the three of us and getting us all through college. He was a master machinist who could take a handful of broken pieces, and from their design craft a new part to replace that which had been broken. He made gears small enough to fit in your hand, to bearings sixteen feet in diameter!

The words "I love you" never came out of his mouth. They just weren't in his vocabulary. He was a product of his times, but he did the best he could with the tools he was given. I now understand that he demonstrated his love with acts of service. Helping out friends and relatives, making things for the home. I still use the book case and tables he made for me for my models and my reloading press.



Thank you, dad. For the hours of work you put in, to build this house. To heat it, to light it, to feed us, to educate us. Even after you were gone, you still had figured out a way to provide for your wife of over four decades.

Heh, I now understand why we went to Conneaut Lake Park instead of Disney, or even Kennywood for our vacations. You wanted to go to the place where you first met mom... Now I want to see that dance hall, the spot where you first asked her to dance... Alas, time is erasing it all....

Thanks dad, for a love of learning, and building. Heh, I wonder what you'd think of my guitar playing? How would you have helped me build my first guitar? I take that back... You did help me make that guitar. I used the tools and skills you gave to me. How to measure accurately down to the thousandth of an inch, how to operate the drill press, and the lathe.

God rest your soul from all your labors, dad, you did good. Happy Father's day, and may we meet again as equals in God's love.

Your son.

B