Pics

Some of my sweetest memories of my Dad during the last years was him winning a race and driving around the track with the checkered flag. That meant so much to him. I tried to help him when I could - I held pieces of the roll cage while he welded, I painted the numbers, I scrubbed the wheels. I just wanted to be with him.

And before that, my dad traded this motorcycle with my Uncle John. It must have been a mess, because when my uncle saw it, he didn't even recognize it. (Might have been due to other reasons, but that's another story.) He used to take me for rides around the neighborhood. One of my friends asked me if my dad thought he was the Fonz. LOL