Sunday, June 19, 2005
Happy Father's Day, Dad
I remember:
Sgt. Foggo : Most feared motorcycle cop, in the island of Bermuda.
The first haircut given to me by my Dad, in the back yard in Prospect. It lasted about 1 day before it was "repaired" by my usual barber.
The sound of the Triumph that you used to travel to and from work, you could hear that bike from a distance off.
The explosion you created that quiet afternoon, when you decided to burn a year’s worth of trash in the moat. This is probably why I became a firefighter, so insure you made retirement age.
Building your boat, in the backyard of the first house in Prospect. Then going out on that boat for a fishing trip.
The pride I felt during later years when I meet people telling me of stories of being chased by you on your motorcycle. I believe of all the stories I was told I met one person who said they got away from you, though they didn’t get away with their bike.
Watching you go out jet skiing in the summer.
The cruise trip we all went on in Alaska.
You attending my wedding in Calgary, and telling that halarious story about your rental car getting towed.
Being in your wedding party, in Cape Cod.
Shaking your hand when I left Bermuda last September.
Thanks for providing for us, and taking care of us, and keeping me on the straight and narrow, and yes my spelling has improved.
Happy Father's Day.
Sgt. Foggo : Most feared motorcycle cop, in the island of Bermuda.
The first haircut given to me by my Dad, in the back yard in Prospect. It lasted about 1 day before it was "repaired" by my usual barber.
The sound of the Triumph that you used to travel to and from work, you could hear that bike from a distance off.
The explosion you created that quiet afternoon, when you decided to burn a year’s worth of trash in the moat. This is probably why I became a firefighter, so insure you made retirement age.
Building your boat, in the backyard of the first house in Prospect. Then going out on that boat for a fishing trip.
The pride I felt during later years when I meet people telling me of stories of being chased by you on your motorcycle. I believe of all the stories I was told I met one person who said they got away from you, though they didn’t get away with their bike.
Watching you go out jet skiing in the summer.
The cruise trip we all went on in Alaska.
You attending my wedding in Calgary, and telling that halarious story about your rental car getting towed.
Being in your wedding party, in Cape Cod.
Shaking your hand when I left Bermuda last September.
Thanks for providing for us, and taking care of us, and keeping me on the straight and narrow, and yes my spelling has improved.
Happy Father's Day.
