[Silly Moustache]

My Old Dad clocked out in '85 at age 75 with Alzheimer's.

To many,including me, he was a mean spiteful man, but later from others in my family I leaned why.

He certainly had a philosophy that everything you love is taken away.

When he was six years old he was standing outside his father's office in London - June 1917. When a German bomb dropped through the roof exploding in the office, beheading my grandfather and maiming many of his female staff.

As my grandfather was not legally married to my grandmother (complicatons back in Sweden) my grandmother was homeless and broke. The only answer wasto find another man to take them in.

The "new Father" abused my Dad in ways unknown, so that he left home at age nine and never returned.

His schooling ended and his working life started in 1920 aged nine. He married in 1938 and bought a new house, then as my sister came along - the bombs began to fall.

Nothing came easy for my parents,but he taught me never to borrow or lend (although I know he often "gave" to folks who needed money).

He was a bad enemy but a very good, if demanding friend.

I remember his bravery - His garage, a successful business dealing in cars and trucks, was approached by a protection racket.

He took my Mum, sister and I to the garage late one night when the guys were going to "do him in" for refusing to pay.

He made us stand behind him and opened the big roller blinds.

The gangsters drove up and parked with the lights on - it was like film scene.
My father walked forwards and sad - "OK - do what you want to me whilst my wife and children are watching - see how big and brave you are!" (or something similar) .

They went away and didn't bother him again.

Curiously he was always keen to employ ex-cons -even if they had robbed him.

He did tel me to forget about finding a job I enjoyed, just a regular job that would ensure me a good pension. Looking back, I pretty much did that, and wish I hadn't.