My father was a great man whose life was unexpectedly and tragically cut short at the ripe age of 49. My father had a heart condition and suffered a massive stroke shortly before Thanksgiving of 1970. He died Thanksgiving day. I was six years old and in first grade. I still remember my first grade teacher, Mrs. Johnston, coming to our home to pay her respects. Although I was but a small child, I have wonderful memories of my father. I know God is sovereign over all things, I’d be lying if I said I don’t deeply regret not having my father throughout at least a substantial portion of my life. There were so many things he could’ve taught me and so many things I want to know about him and his life.
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