I have not written about my dad so thought I'd share some reflections of his life with you. "Happy Fathers Day to all who are dads, grandpas, uncles or cousins." (I'm the little girl with the blonde hair)

My dad ,Cecil was raised with three sisters in Hardwick, Vermont

Mert, his father was a carpenter. Maryellen, his mother came from Ireland. Their home was filled with music, religion and bits of Irish humor.

Dad was valedictorian of his class.He became a finish carpenter, and was quite proud of his profession.

My parents met and married in 1936.
When World War 2 started he joined the Army and was sent overseas.
He served as a interpretor as he could speak French and German.

In 1947 Dad came home and got a job building houses. Mom was a nurse and worked at the local hospital.

Dad liked to read. Books took him places he had never been. He was a great story teller! Many of his stories were about the war and how they captured the Germans.It all sounded quite exciting !

Family outings and picnics in the Green Mountains were happy times. Mom would start singing, soon we all joined in.
There were always a lot of kids at our house. All were welcomed.

My parents were great dancers. Everyone would stop and watch, then applude. Sounds of different kinds of music filled our home.

We all worked in the garden, and helped can vegtables for the long cold winters.

Visits to his parents in Hardwick and my moms family in Waterford were a great part of my life. Family values and traditions were established.

Dad broke his knee in the 1950s and walked with a limp. He was never the same after that. His sunny disposition disappeared and he began to drink.
Our lives changed.

He died in 1960 of Cancer.

When I think about him , I remember those funfilled glorious days when we were a happy family and the world was our haven.

I love you dad!