My dad was 93 going on 94. He was born in 1912. I used to love listening to his stories. Once he was talking about how he liked going to the movies. I kidded him that they would have been silent movies, and he said that of course they were. He used to make money by cranking cars for people. His first memory of his father was coming home one day when he was just around 5 years old and there was a very tall man in a uniform sitting in the kitchen-his dad had finally come home from the war. (He had been in France since the war started! Lancashire Fighting 55th) One night we were outside watching for the space shuttle to pass over our part of the world (one of those times when it was visible) I couldn't get over the things that he had seen in his lifetime. Dirigibles in WWI to the space shuttle! He ended up in the British Merchant Marine & was torpedoed oct. 1941 off the coast of Iceland. He survived that because he had a habit of sleeping in his life jacket. He & my mother moved to the states when he was in his 40's. He was 51 when I was born. We all miss him. wow. I really rambled! This thread just made me think of my dad.