January 12, 2009 So many thoughts flood my mind this morning as I try to authentically portray the life of a man – a man who let me call him Pa. Perhaps the best way to characterize my father is to tell you that when I made phone calls on Thursday to tell people about Dad’s passing, several grown men and ladies began sobbing when they heard the news. If Dad had heard them, he probably would have cried too, because he had a heart for people, and he could feel their sorrow. After Dad passed, a dear friend asked me what I would like if I could have anything that had belonged to Dad. At the moment I couldn’t think of anything, so I said, “How about his BMW?” But now I know the true answer: what I most want is what my father has already given to me. First, he gave me a treasure house of wonderful memories. Dad loved to travel, and some of my earliest memories are of his taking us to Scottsbluff National Monument or to a local auditorium where we would watch travelogue presentations ho...