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Letters to the editor, mailbox, mail, letter

Oh man, I’m looking forward to this year. My dad looked forward to every year.

My dad was a tough old bird from a tough lineage. He never told you to do something twice, only once and then it was knuckle city. Sound extreme? Nowadays it would be. Not back then. As far as I know, most dad's in my little neck of the woods were like that. The way to avoid the knuckle sandwich was do what he told you the first time. Simple.

Doing something immoral, disrespectful, illegal never entered our minds. Nope, not in a million years would I have even considered what people call normal nowadays.

God bless my old man, that herd of milk cows, my horses (my best friends) and God for getting me home again in the late 60s. Without any of them, I wouldn't have made it.

The only time I disobeyed him was when I was 18. I dropped out of college and joined the Army. Dad was furious. "Stay out of that damned Yankee Army," he said. "You'll just get yourself killed, and no one will know anything about it." I joined; we know how that turned out.

Dad never forgave me for dropping out of college and joining the "damned Yankee Army."

I also drove Chevies instead of Fords. Voted Republican just to PO the old man.

Nixon won the presidency that year.

I used to call dad every Sunday. Even if I was on duty, I went to the station and called dad. Kinda kept my life headed up the straight and narrow.

Happy New Year everyone. Let’s make this year a good one.

Danny Crafton


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