And it's just another day. Birthdays were never a big deal in our family as we were growing up. Maybe because there were so many of us. The birthday boy or girl got to pick the type of cake that would b e baked for the Sunday nearest the birthday. I've talked about my sad 18th birthday in the hospital in San Diego, a time I felt so alone, and then my 19th that passed while in San Francisco preparing to go to Japan, at first it was to invade and then when Japan surrendered it was to occupy. Events were moving so fast I didn't remember that I had become 19 until two weeks later.
Owing to my wife Jen my 50th was marked with a few relatives and friends on hand. Then my 80th with many relatives and church members shocking me by observing the day with me. Again, thanks to Jen.
Tomorrow, August 22, is the birthday of brother-in-law Frank Cascio, who if he is not reading this should be. Also it would be the 97th birthday of Mark White, a fellow crew member on the Pickens. I did not know him then but almost feel like I do now through his writings and correspondence with his son John.
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