I just came back from my trip and lit a candle for Dad where a year ago he left us,and I carry him in my heart always ...embrace.

This is a letter in part trascribed from Bruce Gordon's note.

Dear Carol,

Jim Dalton called last week to inform me that our Dear Old Friend, Fred Higbie passed away at the age of 93.

I am convinved Fred's ability to live such a long life is due to his inherent ability to "enjoy the good life" with total joy and happiness while doing so.

Fred was truly one of my most unforgettable old friends.  We first met when I joined the brokerage firm fo White Weld & Co in San Francisco in 1975 as a trainee.

Fred was then the largest producer in the office, and a most astute investor.  Just about every day, the manager (...) would corner Fred and ask him "what he should buy for his clients" at the time.

Fred had an extraordinary ability to mentally forecast the future in industries and groups.  He often purchased his favorties early, holding them for the long term, and heaping huge profits in his clients' portfolios.

...

Unlike so many successful brokers who became wedded to their industry with huge egoes, Fred always enjoyed the good life first.  I truly believe Fred's sense of humor and joy of living started at a very early age, and effected everyone he knew positively.

My dear wife joined Fred on many occasions during his trips to Cabo San Lucas, Mexicso, and particularly to Palm Desert.  For years, we stayed at La Quinta with our young boys, and Fred would occasionally join us for dinner.  It is no surprise La Quinta became one of Fred's most favorite restaurants.

Dear Fred had an extraordinary ability to visit relatively new vacation sites before they became popular.  When he owned Beech Baron Twin Engined plane with others, he visited Costa Mesa -- Cabo San Lucas -- when it was still a backwater.  Fistermen out of Cabo in those days had little difficulty hooking "huge" sailfish with Fred on board of their boats.

One trip we took together I will never forget -- Fred flew us to Southern California -- Pauma Valley -- which was owned outright by the LDS Church.  Their senior trustees built a world class 18 hoe golf course, and only then and a few well connected friends like Fred, were able to visit and stay there.  In fact, it was necessary to fly into this valley to a small landing strip since good roads did not exist.  The LDS started growing oranges there, and eventually Pauma Valley became one of the largest organe growing regions in California. It is no wonder the Morman Church is one of the wealthiest organizations in the country.

I remember with pleasure my visit to Palm Desert's PGA West, our golf game, and my wonderful dinner at your home afterward.  My golf game that day was a true pleasure, and like Fred, I always used a "hand mashie" out of sandtraps.

Just a few memories of my experiences with Fred over the years.  I am convinced he is sitting at the right hand of God now, and continues to elicit happiness and joy in the olter world.

 

Just thought we could start a gallery of drawings of Papa Fred and ourselves together with him

Somehow I have made it through the last few weeks since dad passed – stronger than I thought I should be. But today is Father’s Day and I am missing dad.  Before today I had started to put together my random memories of our time together.  I wanted to share those stories so the memories don’t slip away; so dad will always be with me. So here they are, a series of my memories – somewhat random but touching to me.

For some reason one of the memories I have of dad is him holding me on his shoulders and lifting me and dunking me in the pool in Weed California – on the way to Black Butte Ranch.  Those annual memories of going to Black Butte with my family are some of the fondest of my life. I think I like this memory of dad because it was just pure joy.  Him lifting me, smiling and laughing.

Of course, a story about dad would not be complete without a plane involved. But I want to tell the stories of how dad would take me and my friends up flying.  In the early days he would take us up to Columbia to go mining for gold. I still remember the silly bonnet I bought, mining for gold, and getting held up at gunpoint on the stagecoach. When I got much older he took me and my high school friends up to Carmel to go shopping. Can you imagine? I thought I was so fancy.  And then there was the time that he gave me the wheel up in the sky…I nearly freaked.  Back then I had no fear of flying – it was pure joy. Today, as a 43-year old woman I do have fear when it comes to flying. Perhaps now I can imagine him on the wing of the plane and I can feel safe.

Some of the memories of dad are lived through our bachelor years together.  I remember various “pads” dad had on Leavenworth and Nob Hill where we would order dinner in and just watch television and just be alone together. I wish I could get those back. Those were quiet lovely times.  Even the first time he got sick 20 years ago was touching. We were at a wedding in Nantucket and he collapsed on the floor and was flown to Brigham and Women’s hospital in Boston. I spent one month there living in the basement of a bed and breakfast and visiting my dad in the hospital. I remember him first waking and giving me a big kiss through his respirator mask. I could tell at the core he was just a loving gentle man.  The rest of the month I spent taking care of him in Boston before we flew back.  We went to Nantucket and spent time with family. It was wonderful to just be alone with my dad.

Other memories included going to a trip up to the coast in Mendocino just Dad and I. We also went to Florida to visit his sister, “Sis”. That was a hoot. His sister and her friend were probably in their 70s and we went out on the boat and they literally grabbed the fish with their hands while chain smoking (seriously). Too funny.  Another special trip with dad was his Club trip to Dominican Republic. This was the last trip I took alone just with dad; the rest were full of kids and family.  

Other fond memories were with Dad and his “ladies”: my mom, Mary, Carol.  With my mom I remember barbequing every Sunday hamburgers, steak and dad’s famous Caesar salad.  I also remember watching Love Boat and Fantasy Island – and actually my dad called me Love Boat – that was my nickname.  We also picnicked on the hood of our car in Candlestick Park and flew a kite when picnicking in the East Bay. Mary I remember fondly as a very organized and inspiring lady mostly. And Carol and I are / were just great friends.  I spent many a night over at Dad and Carol’s house telling them about relationships gone wrong or getting advice on my career.  I got lots of consoling and advice and those were some of the fondest memories I have.

We had the service for dad at the same church that Dad and Carol were married in. This brought back great memories. Because as I said I had always confided in Dad and Carol about relationships. It was at their wedding that I told them I had met a great guy – James Verner (now my husband).  I remember being at Dad and Carols’ wedding thinking and missing James and hoping he was the one. 

After marrying James, I had my three beautiful girls: Madison, Alexis and Sophie.  Dad and Carol always flew up for the birth of every girl. They were right there with me in the hospital.   I remember dad holding the babies and his eyes watering up. He, Carol and I are all very sentimental, emotional people. That is what I loved about hanging out with them.

In the later years of my dad’s life I wanted to maximize every moment with him. I think I always feared the end.  We took dad on a cruise for his 90th birthday, travelled to California destinations, and built a “casita” in our backyard where dad and Carol stayed the last few summers and Christmases. I’m so glad I did that. It was so wonderful for my kids to get to know Dad and Carol in a very informal, fun, family way.  Even though Dad sometimes went on his own schedule he and Carol were always home for dinner, a fun game and a few laughs.  In fact, Carol taught two of my girls’ chess: might I add that my 5-year old beats me every time!

The final memory I’ll give is his last few days and hours. I remember he held my hand and rubbed it. And when he could no longer do that and I could tell he was in pain, I played Frank Sinatra, rubbed his back and told him he was dancing under the stars.  I think that is how I’ll end this: memories of dad with music and happiness.   Love you Daddy – Tara.

Fred and Carol were one of the most loving, charming, warm and gracious couples that Chris and I met in the desert. Through Carol's membership in the Rancho Mirage/La Quinta/Palm Desert book club, I had the great opportunity to not only meet Fred many times but break bread and hoist drinks with him at his house and mine. Book club group nights begat intimate dinners of the Gennets and Higbies at the Hotel La Quinta. 

When the book club ladies invited spouses and male partners to join them for their annual holiday book festivities, Fred was very instrumental in expanding the evening into a songfest of Christmas Carols, which he, of course, accompanied.  I had the privilege of picking the carols (with his approval) and typing the song sheets, while also leading the singing (a veteran barbershoper has that privilege). But Fred's piano playing supported the discordant harmonies of the book club members and kept us all in relative tune. He always had a smile on his face as he tackled song after song in the holiday spirit.

Less than a month before he passed away, Fred was at our home for one of the final book club gatherings of the "season." He told us stories about his childhood and meeting Henry Ford, while holding his cocktail and enjoying the hors d' oeuvres. He was so upbeat and contageously happy that everyone around Fred basked in the glow of his joy for living, his zest for friendship, and his awareness of all things that made up his world and ours. He was, as others have described him, truly a Renaissance Man, but I will remember him as a loving husband, father and grandfather.....and as my friend.  All who knew Fred Higbie will miss him and now know that he is irreplaceable. 

This story is by James Verner.

Good bye Papa Fred.

You left this world like a movie star - leaving us all wanting more. And deservedly so.

You lived life like the rest of us should. You lived for every day, made the most of every situation and knew how to have a good time.

Who else could have flown under the golden gate bridge?

Who better to leave Gross Point country club with a new regulation - that you can’t land on the 18th fairway with an airplane.

Who else would buy a plane without asking your wife first?

And your fun-loving, mischievousness is classic. From getting removed from Exeter, to re-wiring the telephone wires on his street.

Who better could have coined the term “it must be noon somewhere” to kick off cocktails in the morning?

It was always clear you were the life of the party. You couldn’t go anywhere in San Francisco or at Burlingame country club without people calling out your name. Being with you was like being with a celebrity.

You lived an amazing life. From the joys of golf and flying. To living in Virginia, Gross Pointe and San Francisco. From knowing Walt Disney, to the main character from “pursuit of happiness”, to countless other high society people. From being a member of the PU Club, the San Francisco Golf Club, the Citrus Club, the Burlingame club and finally PGA West - how could one go wrong.

And what a career. Despite your fun-loving holding you back you graduated from great schools and colleges, had an amazing career as a stock broker and were one of the last good brokers who really understood the stocks you were selling to your clients. In some ways you were the last of an era - an era when you were expected to understand stocks, not just ETFs, and do right by your clients to beat the market. And so you did. Your financial acumen, like your personality, will be sorely missed.

Your easy-going manner made you a favorite with the grandkids. Even at 93, our kids had dubbed you their “hero”. You could relate to all types of people - rich, poor, old, young, famous, thin, ok, maybe not fat. (most people).

I am so thankful to have had you as my father-in-law. I couldn’t have been luckier. Its been a wonderful 17 years that I’ve known and grown to love you.

Top 10 Reasons I’m thankful to Papa Fred:

10. For supporting me while I was trying to learn the game of golf.

9. Having had a chance to play golf at the San Francisco Golf Club - truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience

8. For inviting us to so many great afternoons of swimming, food & drink at the Burlingame club.

7. For charming us with amazing piano and stories over the years

6. Great parties and celebrations at the PU Club

5. Having celebrated our wedding at the Burlingame Country club

4. For being open to taking in my mother when she needed company

3. Great family

2. Carol

1. My Wife

I recall before our first meeting knowing that you were from a fancy Michigan family and being quite worried about the formality of the occasion and whether I’d live up to your standards. As expected you showed up dressed in the typical blue blazer and tie. Like only you could you made me immediately and forever at ease in your company. Rather than ask for the maitre d’ to bring you a napkin you used your resourcefulness and made use of your perfectly good tie to take care of the problem!

Thank you for your patience - in taking me golfing when no one else would have! I was a terrible golfer, yet you never complained, never judged, never made me feel unwanted. I’ve grown to love golf and will miss our days spent out on the course talking about NetRom.

I want to thank you for being such a loving father. Its clear that characertistic rubbed off on your daughter who is one of the most loving person I’ve ever met.

Thank you for welcoming me into your lives. For sharing every Thanksgiving. For joining us at Christmas. Thank you for taking us on a memorable boat cruise around Mexico. For making our family bigger, better, happier than it was.

Good bye Papa fred, Goodbye Grandpa, Good bye Father-in-Law, Good bye movie star. Its definitely cocktail time here. I can’t thank you enough for all the good you’ve brought to me and your family.

Story by James Verner 

from his first daughter, Sandra (nicknamed Sha Sha )

As I float through the vast clouds today on this airplane I remember times with my Dad, if now his presence is floating in an out of the different shades of blue and white. I see him as an angel in a book I remember as a child “the littlest angel “on a cloud jumping from one cotton cloud to the other dissolving into the vastness above us and around.... bringing us closer.

Frederic Butler Higbie a veteran of the navy during World War 2, broker for Merrill Circle (the top 75), White Weld, & Company, Wachovia, primarily skilled with investments in oil, an avid piano player of popular music during gatherings. He was partly self made as in those days you didnt  a need fancy education to succeed. His drive and what he loved to do made him.

He  also loved attention, Birthdays, Holidays, family gatherings, and the market, sports, and all kinds of information. He was warm and enduringly expansive and I always got a call every holiday and recently every chance we got. My only sadness was I was going to call him the day I got to Quebec for a performance job but I had no reception and he had his stroke, that evening.

Through my 60 or so years of having my Dad from the time I was born in Michigan in 1952 to his move to San Francisco in 1958, through to the divorce of my mum then Julie Higbie, I was shared time between my mum and my Dad between Chicago and SF. I always used to love visiting my Dad when I was 6-10 years old, as I would be able to get away with anything, which usually meant hours in the playroom upstairs building mazes and fantasy worlds with peek boxes and cut outs, making paper birds, and pasting flower stickers on all the walls. I loved drawing birds and cutting them out. My Mum tried to limit the number of birds made by only allowing 100 marked with brads. But my Dad would let me fill up trunks of them without counting. My mum tried to control my obsessions, but My Dad didn't seem to notice or worry, he seemed to have remembered his train set that he spread throughout the house (refer to “track” story).

When I was 6 years old, My Dad just let me do anything I wanted and happy I could keep my self-occupied. We were both just “one more thing” type people. It wasn’t until I picked all the pansies and flowers in his backyard and was selling them on the street in front of his house, THAT he really noticed. That was one of the few times I remember as a child I saw him mad. He never got mad, only just huffs …a Very stable man.

  I never played golf but he always told me fondly that when he took me out on a golf cart as a child, I asked him where the birdie was and will it sing, couldn't it fly? ­­­­­­­­­

Then through the 1960s throughout his marriage to Helen Bashford Kennett, which happened after his mothers passing Yaddie in 1956, (a lady of Louisville, Kentucky) and his father, He lived in a big 30-room house on Broadway in San Francisco with a bohemian folk singer. She provided my Dad an interesting interlude up with a mountain cabin near the Dardanelles on HI way 4? It had 20 beds under the stars. She collected obsidian rocks. Even my step dad, Jim, came to help build a water tank as he had helped Bash on a folk singing TV show for children. She shared my Dads love of music and we would sit around campfires.  They went to Cabo san Lucas and he luxuriated at the Palmira Hotel while we went down to Baja in a jeep went there was still just a dirt road near Bahia de Las mujeres near an island of Tiburon, then a beautiful unspoilt place with a few brightly painted cement cube buildings on the beach with just sand and a sunset and piñatas. My Dad also flew up there with the plane, what a lovely life he had.

I used to love those drives to the mountains in the gold country, and we would go to Chinese restaurants and eat chop suey in Auburn. And he had a boat called the “Bull Market” boat where we went with his friend Bill Jansen. He had an airplane with his brother and we would go up to the delta and spend nights on the slough and visit people and they would have drinks in Lodi on the Delta Sloughs. While kids fished off the piers.

I have many stories of Dad’s preoccupations of brilliance or demise, which I too share. He did funny things always unawares.  For example, my mum told me he went to a costume ball and wore a baby bonnet as his costume, or he went on a trip and he packed his ski pants by mistake to go with his tuxedo. Another story was when he was in the mountains in this cabin; he always took a nap at 6 before dinner. ...The place was dark with a hug wooden dinning room table with a bed and lofts above. He laid down to rest and went to sleep. The guests for the dinner arrived and took of their coats in the evening light laying them one by one onto the bed. When it was time to have dinner and play the piano, everyone said “where’s Fred, where’s Fred". He emerged out of the dark mound of coats.  There was Fred!

Everyone drank so much in those days and there was a barbecue always around 9 pm and all the children had to wait. Sometimes there was left over sweet breads (brains) and vodka for breakfast. But I was his little girl and always occupied myself making stuff, writing stories, and building little sail boats to float on mountain streams. I loved a car trip we took together to the mountains. He was always so late departing everywhere. We went to the ghost town in Nevada at dusk, but he was always endlessly curious of all the details to go everywhere and turn everywhere. Recently I was able to talk to my dad over the phone about these years and we recollected together this other slice of his life.

Then he married Brenda and produced his lovely daughter Tara, 18 years younger. I was off in the world abroad living in Indonesia & and Japan for 6 years and not home much. So my sister had to be an only child as well and I could never fill that gap she needed. So in a way we both ended up being consecutively an only child.

By the way there was always the stereo, and the latest thing and complex wiring of speakers and “don't talk to him till he figures it out,” syndrome. As I grew older I realized I shared this part of his wiring up electricity for my art. He loved to wire speakers up in every room and then turn on the stereo first thing in the morning with the jungle parrot calls full blast of the movie West Side Story.

He had always been late but maybe because his mother was neurotically on time arriving way before the party waiting outside and looking at her clock and walking in on the exact moment. But he was saved by Carol who gave him structure in life and gave him much joy with all those things he loved to do. And I ended up appreciating my Dad more after he had found his match. My side of the family had always been more subdued, and introverted possibly snobby. The then overly loud character of my Dad seemed to transform into a vivaciousious, warmth, taking life never submerged in any depression or details. If you find your best match you reflect in a balanced way in the world. And He always chose first class people.

After my Mum grew ill 10 years ago, I discovered things we both had in common: Plugging in electronics, lighting and electricity, self centered or preoccupied, or fixated on finding something or putting something together. From now on my Dad will come back to me when I do these things .I will love him.

Filling every minute full, I am sure he could have filled another set of lifetimes with his interests. He was so informed about everything, endlessly curious and flexible without an attitude, having a great sense of humor in the darkest of times. When we were traveling, he let the original plan dissolve, exploring this site, and that hotel, and where does that road go? Flirting with the environment, he wanted to know more all the time. Life gave him more than double time to enjoy it all.

He accepted everyone for what they were, and that is what his clients and friend loved him for. Having an open young mind, often walking naively into situations like a child. This is why I thought he might survive the stroke, thinking he had a very special brain, but he made it farther out than all his brothers and sisters, Bud, Larry, and Sis. His eyes were open on this extraordinary world for 93 years, the miracle of life.

Last week when Tara and my family got together for lunch at the beach, he scrambled on the phone that he was so jealous and wished he could be there. Thank you Tara for giving your children a strong chance to know him.

Yesterday Albert (my husband and I went to this beautiful monastery of Saint Sebastian a peninsula over a river and the monks just happened to be chanting the early evening sermon. I prayed to Dad en wrapping his form in protection spiraling to the sky.

(From his older daughter Sha Sha (known to him as Sandra)

As you know from my previous post, Fred was brought up in Grosse Pointe, Michigan, which was a city town that most of us would consider fairytale.  He was a very priviledged boy and had the best of everything, including the elements of the story I am going to tell you now.

As I said from the post below, his parents were divorced when he was about 7 years old.  So he had to be transported to and from his parents.  So his brother Bud told me one night at a coctail party, "So  you know Carol, Fred had two chauffeurs when he was 7 years old."  So he would be staying with his mother and at the end of the week his chauffeur would take him to his father. And at the end of the weekend his father's chauffeur would take him to his mothers...

A real case of total "unreality".  Fred was such an understated man that he would never tell this story to anyone.  But I thought it was hysterical, so I'm sharing it with you. 

Fred as a child was a product of divorced parents.  His mother lived in Grosse Point, Michigan and his father lived in Bloomfield Hills (probably a distance of 50 miles).  During the week he would live with his mother and on the weekends he would live with his father. Fred had an obsession with electric trains. In his mother's house he was only allowed to have his electric train running in his bedroom and it was very confining for Fred.  But on the weekend he would go to see his father who was a very unrestrictive -- which was great for Fred.  So, when he visited his father his father allowed Fred to have the train running in all the rooms -- bedrooms, dining room, living room, kitchen (maybe not the bathrooms but all the other rooms). So I asked Fred one day, "Tell me about your trains. Did you have all kinds of fabulous lakes and trees and cities and buildings and barns?" To which Fred said (and he was dead serious), "No Carol, what I had was TRACK!"

I've had the privilege of meeting Fred on many occasions when he and Carol have stayed with Tara, James and family.  “I hope like me, you never grow up and you never grow old" is just perfect coming from Fred - he is certainly the most active, positive, interesting, 'young', 90 something year old I have ever met. He is a true inspiration, and a lesson to us all on how we should live life.

It's always a wonderful experience to visit the Verners, but it would be even more special when I visited when Carol and Fred were there. As soon as you walked in you'd get involved in a really interesting conversation with them, and I loved when they'd say 'let's sit and have a drink in the lounge' and continue talking about whatever fascinating thing you were talking about!  Fred was genuinely interested in what people had to say, and I think he had a greak knack of making people feel special.  On a couple of occasions Fred and Carol came to our place and is was quite funny that often, even as the oldest person there, he was the 'life of the party'.

I can totally see where Tara gets her wonderful spirit from, and know that Fred will live on in Tara and the girls!  It's been so special to witness the incredible, strong relationship that Tara has with her dad, and I am very lucky to have known him.  Thinking of you all today and sending love across the ocean as you celebrate this very special man's life. xxxxxxx

 

Fred had so many 100's of qualities that were magical to me but the best one was that he was endlessly great company . We would be sitting in restaurant/bar having a drink and he'd look at me and say"Carol, I'm just having a ball !"  He truly did drink from the cup of life!. I talked to him many times about what he did as a child for fun.  He said, well let's see I had the Higbie Newspaper for our street. I said what did you do for the paper?  He said "I was Editor and Chief"  This is probably at age 12 or so. So I said tell me about the paper. "Well, I had a Sports Editor, Al Sherman , who lived down the street.So, I'm not kidding the next day when we were living in San Francisco, the phone rang and the person said "Is Fred there--this is Al Sherman"  I said "Fred, your Sports Editor is on the phone!"He hadn't heard from him in years!
He also had theHigbie Theatre and of course, Fred was the general manager! Of course!.  

(More Later) 

Fred's late evening pitch to Carol to accompany the newly graduated SEALs to the Orange Avenue, Coronado bar: "...but the boys want me to go!"

Truer words were never spoken. 

So ... when fred came to visit me when i graduated SEAL training in 2004. His mission was to stay out all night drinking with us (most of who were 1/3 his age or less) and when his wife made him go home (the responsible thing to do) 15-20 SEALs all toasted to him as he was dragged out of the bar.

Cheers to Fred. 

My memory of Fredy was when we were little living in Bloomfield Hills, he flew his plane over the house and waved and daddy, Carlton, Sr, our father called the Detroit Airport ordered them to be grounded! Had fun times in San Francisco and more recent I was able to spend time with he and Carol in Michigan ! Fredy was fun and 14 years my senior ! His mom Yada, Laura Butler, was so kind to my mom and me and I rode her horses for her! My daughter Laura , I named after her! Don't all of us Higbies love a party and great drinks and wine! Here is to you, dear brother Fred

My father, Fred Higbie, was the original renaissance man. As defined, this is a “person with many talents and areas of knowledge” - that is / was Fred!

From a very young age in Grosse Pointe Michigan, Fred was a technologist.  So much so, that I’m convinced he would have been a Bill Gate or Steve Jobs or something of that nature - had it not been 1921 (when he was born).  To add to that technical flair, daddy also had a fun and slightly mischievous side to his personality -- in all the best ways. Some of our favorite stories included him climbing up the telephone poll in what must have been the 1930s/40s to switch all the telephone wires so different folks would get different incoming calls. Later in life his love of technology continued - he always had is iphone, ipad, radio frequency, splicers near by in case of need.

In addition to being a technologist, daddy was a pilot.  He learned to fly when he was in the navy.  As a child I was so lucky as he would take my friends up in his Beechcraft plane to go mining for gold in Columbia.  He flew many places including under the Golden Gate bridge and on the 18th fairway of the Country Club of Detroit in Michigan and across the country for my parents honeymoon.

Because of his personality, Fred was a phenomenal sales person. In addition to being good with people, he was also  sharp as a tack all the way until the end.  My dad was one of the top performing stock brokers at Merrill Lynch and was an active stock broker until (now hold on here) 5 days ago when he was 93. That’s right, he was a talented stockbroker and golfer until the age of 93. In fact, he was so bright that you could mention any major event or company in the world and he would have a comment or an opinion that was right! Amazing!!!

To top it all off, Fred was an amazing pianist. He played music by ear. If you ever had a tune you wanted you would just tell dad or hum the melody and he would play it for you.

But most of all, dad was fun and full of love. For a strong, vibrant man (as his wife, Carol says) he also had a soft spot and a genuine heart of gold. His wife, Carol, and I would often sit around laughing and even crying at sweet commercials, at special moments with the grand kids.  In fact, my kids loved “Papa Fred” so much that one of my daughters announced that he was her hero in her second grade class report.

I’m of course so sad today that I no longer have my dad physically with me. But I am so eternally grateful the for 93 wonderful years I had with my dad.  He and my mom are my idols. They both have taught me so much. In particular, my dad has taught me to be curious, to love, to live, and to NEVER EVER think you are old.  In a recent family dinner round robin toast session he announced to the family, “I hope like me, you never grow up and you never grow old”.  Well, daddy we will try to follow your lead.

I don’t want to stop writing this as there is so much I could go on to say. But suffice it to say that I love you Daddy. You will always be in my heart.

Love you. Tara