I'm getting an early start on Father's Day since I have a musician to remember tomorrow, who was also a dad.
This is my Dad, Cecil Edmund Chesher, in his formal painted portrait...very presidential. I think it would fit in on a wall in the White House. Funny that his favorite bar at the lake where we spent our summers was called The White House.
Looking totally Mad Men in this photograph, although he was in the oil business.
No question that he loved playing the organ at Christmas.
My Dad checked out of Hotel Earth when I was twenty-one. At the time, I thought that he had lived a full life long life. What was I thinking? He was 57 years old. I hadn't even begun learning all the things I needed to learn from him. I wrote about my Dad and his part in Everybody I Shot Is Dead on my former blog if you're interested.
Happy Father's Day, Dad.
You left too soon.
I miss you.