Tuesday, December 19, 2006
I don’t have very many good memories of my Dad. The train set he had in the basement is one of the few. There was no question that it was his train but he’d sometimes let us run it. He had built a very large table with a hole cut out in the center so you had to crawl under to get to the controls. Lots of track and switches and little toy buildings and trees. But most of all his time and attention.