Happy Father's Day

My dad, aka Big Dave, on the job at the railroad, 1983. I was 5, he 29. As a brakeman/switchman/conductor, he worked the night shift for 15+ years before building enough seniority to move shifts. In a system where intimidation was the motivation tool of choice among the power structure, he kept his dignity and still found reasons to laugh with his work buddies. After 25 years railroading and raising 5 kids, he ended up needing to retire on disability due to back injuries.  Now at 57 he putts around K-town in his old Golf socializing, hanging out with his grandbaby, helping out his parents, going to church, and, unfailingly, catching good live shows.  The other day he read me every act he'd just seen at Bonnaroo.  So Happy Father's Day to my pops. Not only do I remember that plaid shirt and those Oshkoshes, but I carry with me your face lighting up with warmth and play like in this picture.