Growing up, I always found Father’s Day one of my favorite days of the year. My two younger brothers and I would wake up early that morning and go fishing with our dad. We never really caught much, but that was beside the point: casting lines off the beach with dad. To this day, those are some of my favorite memories.
We never had much, but because of how hard my dad worked, I don’t remember a time when we didn’t have enough. My dad was, and is, the consummate American father, the strong silent type. He worked his butt off to make sure we had chances he didn’t, and we were never able to get away with much.
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