writer's almanac, august 11th

It's the birthday of my dad. Born on this day in 1947 in Marshalltown, Iowa, Dad was raised in a good midwestern home with lots of corn eating and Lutheran church attending.

He majored in history at St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota. His daughter almost decided to go there, until she remembered she hates the snow. He then continued his historical journey at the University of Iowa, for which he got the Air Force to pay. Much to his chagrin, said military institution decided it wanted him to pay them back, and they sent him to Madrid, Spain for his service.

It was this trip to Spain which changed his life. He heard the best friend of his high school girlfriend would be teaching English in Algeria at the same time. He called up first Annie, the girlfriend, ultra-conservative parents to get her contact information. The rest was history.

After Mom's time in Algeria was over, she went to Spain to be with my dad. They knew they wanted to be married, but the process was expedited when Dad almost got sent to Japan. He came home one day and said "Well, I guess we better get married." And with that romantic proposal the couple headed to Gibraltar to get hitched on November 27, 1973(?).

At the end of 1975, Dad was released from active duty and they headed to Albuquerque, New Mexico for more graduate school. This time, Mom's vegetable co-ops, babysitting trading and Dad's 4 million jobs paid for his education. The 2 oldest daughters were born there, followed by the light of their life in San Antonio, Texas in 1981. Dad didn't care he had only daughters-- after all, where there are girls, there are also boys. Especially three such lovely daughters, daughters who would later give him Christmas gifts like the chance to brew his own beer.

The year 1982 brought them to Virginia, where Dad continues to do history stuff and counts the days til he's eligible to retire.