I lost my Dad, Arthur Julian Salemme, in 1999. He went into the hospital with heart issues and never came out. I had a chance to see him, though, before he left. He told me that in the pre-surgery meeting the doctor who would be operating on him asked him if he had any questions. My Dad's response was to ask him if he had ever performed that type of operation before.
     He was born in Boston in 1923 . His mom was a Lithuanian Jew and his dad was an Italian Catholic. Both groups, particularly back then, discouraged marrying outside of their religion and nationality. Both groups also said that couples should never divorce. My dad's parents did both. When they split up, my dad went with his mom and his brother, my Uncle Frank went with his dad to Florida. In all my life, as far as I know, my dad never spoke to his older brother after the split. I certainly never met him. Kind of sad.
     My mom's side is of Irish ancestry. Dorney (pronounced Dawney up in Boston) was her maiden name. Mom was, I would say a staunch Roman Catholic. When she and my dad were courting, there was some hesitance on whether they should marry or not, since my dad was Jewish.
     My dad told me that he prayed to God to ask for a sign if he should marry my mom. The house
where he was living at the time, the roof had never leaked. On the night of his prayer, it was raining and, as he was lying on his bed he looked up and the roof had leaked a little bit, enough to make the shape of a cross on the ceiling . Lucky for me. And my siblings.
     Dad served in the army before he was married and was stationed in Ft. Riley Kansas. That was the last cavalry division of the army that still used horses.
     After they were married, they moved to Washington, DC area. For the first 5 or 6 years they lived in a rental apartment in Arlington, Virginia where my older sister Anne and I were born. After that, they bought their first home in Riverdale Maryland, just on the other side of DC, a 3 bedroom, 1 bath house that they bought for $12,000. As our family grew, with the addition of younger sisters Jean and Mary and younger brother John, we finished off the basement of the home to include another bedroom and bathroom.
     My dad was a linguist and worked for NSA (aka No Such Agency). Worked there for aver thirty years until he retired. He was inducted into the cryptologist hall of fame posthumously a few years after he passed away. He translated Russian and, I believe, contributed to the ending of the cold war. He was never able to talk about his work, but did mention some of the personalities that he worked with. He was also head of the Quilting club at NSA. He would also do side jobs for JPRS at home at night, sitting at his desk in the basement. Dad typed over 80 words per minute on his first Olympic clunky manual typewriter and then later graduated to his IBM Selectric with the little thing that looked like a golf ball with the letters on it. At any rate, he would have a stack of Russian on his left, translate it in his head and then it would come out camera ready from the typewriter with a stack on the right. All before computers or word processors were in common use.
     When all us kids were little, he would gather us, a cupla at a time and make up stories. He was also quite a good cook. My mom would normally do the cooking during the week but Dad would always make Sunday dinner, about 2:00 in the afternoon. My favorite was roast beef, potatoes, carrots and onions with gravy. Mmmmm! His Sunday meals continued even after the kids left home and was a favorite activity to drop by to visit with his grandkids.
      One of my favorite memories of my dad is during the turbulent 60's (hippie times) and one night out of the blue, he asked me if I would like to go see the Beatles movie, Let it Be. I guess I was so moved that he would want to see something that I was interested in.
       Dad also was a very creative person and both he and my mom loved making quilts. He also made many rya rugs needlepoints, made all of the curtains in our home,etc. He made the wall hanging that is in my living room as we speak in Tuscaloosa.
     He had quite a quick temper and although he never hit any of us, if we were doing something that he disapproved of, his one eyebrow would go up andthat was usually enough to get us to stop what we shouldn't have been doing. Just for the record and equal time, my mom's threat of discipline was to chase us around the house shaking a wooden spoon at us. She also rarely connected.
       My sisters and brother feel like orphans now that both parents have gone and we are te old fogeys at Thanksgiving family gatherings now. Oh well. Life goes on, within you and without you (Beatles lyric)

      This past week in Tuscaloosa had a small group out of Ft. Wayne Indiana. Tim and Gary had been with us three times in the past and newbies included Shirley, Karen, Tammy and Byron. Sorry for the others that I couldn't remember. They worked hard and well on the saferoom doors (always a tedious project with that 400 pound door) Also installed lots of trim and doors at the womens build, ran siding at Jennifiers home at 115 and started the soffit. Amy from Minnesota was also here last week working with them. Amy's got the world record of volunteer returnism and this past week was here eighth trip to work with us here in Tuscaloosa. Joe and Pam were here too. Joe did the rails on the Faith build and also set the kitchen cabinets at the womens build on the saturday before he left. They have a gigantic fifth wheel with a "toy box" at the back of it that they use to haul their Honda three wheel motorcycle. Beautiful couple. They are new to RV CareaVanning, but seems like they enjoy the lifestyle.
    
     My friend from Peru and Luuhville, Crystal Manoske, had brought a group from her church, including Pastor Paul, over from Opelika to work with us for the week. Opelika is in Alabama and is home of (ahem- don't know if I'm allowed to say this or not) Auburn University. Roll Tide, Roll Tide, Roll Tide. OK, now it's OK.

  That's all for this week. Happy Father's Day to all the dads in the audience. Love ya. Peter