A Picture Of My Dad

I fell asleep last night thinking of blogging, of all the great and wonderful things this amazing invention--the internet--can do. I awoke with the same intensity to create and share, but after 10 hours of work, the spark began to fade.

The kids are preparing to retire for the night. I've written in my journal and there's absolutely nothing on TV (unless, of course, you're a political-logue and can't get enough of the president's words and the words of others who so desperately want to share their invaluable insights to the benefit all of us) so I'm giving this blog another shot.

A little bit about the picture. My father (kneeling, far right) was part of a B-17 crew in WWII. Unfortunately, I never got the opportunity to ask him about what he did or the experiences he had. By the time I was interested in history and could somewhat appreciate what he had to say, he had passed away several years before. Such is the way of things sometimes...

I thought I'd share the picture with you because it means so much to me. And yes, it's just a picture of men that I believe are all gone, but for all it represents--not just to me, but to the generation that sacrificed so much. I hope you all have a wonderful evening. Goodnight.