Thirty-Eight years ago today my father had just landed at Detroit Metro Airport. He was returning home from a job at Bell Aircraft in California. My mother was waiting at the airport to pick him up. With her was my eldest son Wesley Roy, not quite six at the time.
In Detroit the 1967 Riot was going on. Burning and looting had occurred just blocks from the hospital I was in. During the last weeks of my pregnancy when visiting my Doctor’s office I saw National Guard personnel in jeeps patrolling the city. At Brent General Hospital on this day were my husband Verl, myself, and my brand new baby. When he was born the Doctor held him up and my first thought was he looked like a chicken hanging in a butcher shop window. Eight pounds of baby and 15 ounces of nose and a girl no less. But the Dr. quickly corrected me by turning him around and saying, “Does this look like a girl to you?” Sheer delight—another son who was later named Lesley Troy.
Happy Birthday son and many more. May the coming year bring a brighter future, good health, and a whole lot of well deserved happiness.