My Dad

My father has been handicapped for the majority of his life.  He was a Vietnam helicopter pilot, a war hero for all intents and purposes, honored with the Silver Star after rescuing a fellow pilot whose aircraft crashed. Shortly thereafter his own helicopter was shot down and he was wounded in the left wrist and knee.

He is an extremely private person and during my childhood rarely spoke of his injuries or his time in the Army.

Occasionally an inquisitive friend of mine would ask him, “What happened to your leg?”  And he would shyly reply, “A snake bit me.”

Growing up, his disability went virtually unnoticed by my brother and I.  He had a severe limp (he still does), but he never let it interfere with us or the things we wanted to do.  Though he couldn’t run, or ride a bike, he taught us how to do those things, as well as play basketball, baseball and football.  He supported and encouraged us and participated by coaching our teams and being our biggest fans.

In more recent years he’s become involved with Vietnam Veterans organizations and I think—I hope—is proud of his service.  I know I am.

Happy Father’s Day Dad!

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