My father died yesterday after complications brought on by the flu. He was a devoted husband and father and a man of passionate interests. An English professor for decades at what was then Trinity College in Washington, D.C., he loved American literature of the 1920s and 1930s. He was a huge Big Band fan, and possibly the world’s worst amateur trumpeter. He was an intense World War II buff and a prolific and talented scale modeler (see the video below for a quick tour of his handiwork in his study). He adored cats and had tender regard for any creature down to and including insects. His heart was emblazoned with Yankees pinstripes and he was content to watch pretty much any baseball game at any time. He made an excellent chocolate mousse and baked homemade bread. As you might guess from his fondness for the 1930s and 1940s, he was old school, almost loath to go to the grocery story without wearing a jacket and tie. I’m not sure I ever heard him raise his voice. He was a private man and hard to get to know. But we knew him and loved him and will miss him. R.I.P.