Sadly, part of the reason for the trip was to pay our respects to Richard Hale, also know as Cranston Fowler. He survived the Battle of the Bulge. There was a nice plaque on display at the funeral home commemorating his part in that battle. Mr. Hale was awarded a Bronze Star for his part in that piece of history. He also was the man who gave my Dad a chance, hiring him as the representative for Michigan for his company. The position which I by extension hold today. I find it oddly comforting, even substantial, that Dick Hale would be buried on this day.
We picked up a camera repair for a customer in Redford, and a Model C with 6 extra cables for the Southfield DPW. We spent about 30 minutes at Electric Eel this morning, Mr. Hale's company, talking to several of the guys about old times. Talking too about what graces we have been given through our mutual association with good men. Many of us shared stories, on Wednesday at the funeral home and on this early Thursday morning at the factory common to us all.
On the way home Phil and I had breakfast at the Iron Skillet in North Baltimore, Ohio. We had had three ribeyes there years ago to celebrate when Electric Eel added to our territory Indiana and northwest Ohio. Combinations of us all, including a couple of grandsons, had eaten meals there over the years as well. Then we continued on the road and made our deliveries.
It wasn't a bad day after all. After two and half years, even not always liking it, never actually liking it really, I'm becoming accustomed to the new normal. Not that normal will ever really be the same again. But it really wasn't a bad day.
Happy 80th Birthday Pops.
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