Stanley Thornhill

I remember once, Papa was rough housing on the floor with us until he couldn't breathe.  Due to his pipe and exposure to mustard gas in France during the war, he had emphesyma. As they helped him to his chair and got his breathing machine going, my great-grandma and grandma really scolded him!  He sat in his chair, and soon began winking at smiling at me, to let me know he was OK.  He died when I was barely 4, but I also remember how beautiful he maintained the backyard.  The dasies and the birds in the cherry tree stand out the most.