Search the Community

My father was active and in good health. Yesterday my father (age 78) took a headfirst dive down the basement stairs. My mother heard the fall and he was bleeding and unconscious when she got to him. She called the paramedics (3 ambulances and 8 paramedics showed up) and they were able to revive him and transport him to the local hospital. The local hospital did what they could to stabilize him and then had him transported to a big hospital with neurosurgeons on staff due to bleeding in the brain. What is known so far. many deep lacerations on his head and body. Fractured scull fractured eye socket fractured vertebra in the neck fractured clavicle 3 broken ribs in the back. He is spitting up blood so more testing is coming to determine its cause, as well as a full body scan to see if any other things are broken / damaged. They have not yet looked at much of anything below the chest yet. The doctors have said that none of his injuries appear to be life threatening but they are still very concerned about possible brain damage. When I got to the hospital the doc was asking him questions, he did not know what year it was or who the president is. He did not recognize my mother, my sister or me. He has no recollection of what happened. Most of his right side is not working but the doc said there was no stroke or heart attack that caused the fall. He will be spending some significant time in the neuro ICU.

It is with a saddened heart I 'm passing along the following news. Jay/ ragtop69gs's Father had passed away yesterday. I know what he's dealing with due to the timing of his Dad's passing as my Father had passed away several years ago between Christmas and New Years day as well. Prayers going out for Jay, Jeanie, family , and friends during these trying times. Jay will be providing further news and info after tomorrows meeting with the funeral director. Thanks, Larry & Joyce

David was in his 5th grade class when the teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living. All the typical answers came up - fireman, policeman, salesman, office worker, etc.. David was being uncharacteristically quiet and so the teacher asked him about his father. “My father's an exotic dancer in a gay bar and he takes off all his clothes in front of other men. Sometimes, if the offer's really good, he'll make a date with some guy and go out with him for money.” The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some coloring, and took little David aside to ask him, "David? Is that really true about your father?" "No," said David, “ Actually, he's a performance engineer at Harley Davidson, but I was too embarrassed to say that in front of the other kids.

A father buys a lie detector robot that slaps people when they lie. He decides to test it out at dinner one night. The father asks his son what he did that day. The son says, "I did some schoolwork." The robot slaps the son. The son says, "Ok, Ok. I was at a friend's house watching movies." Dad asks, "What movie did you watch?" Son says, "Toy Story." The robot slaps the son. Son says, "Ok, Ok we were watching porn." Dad says, "What? At your age I didn't even know what porn was!" The robot slaps the father. Mom laughs and says, "Well, he certainly is your son!" The robot slaps the mother. P.S. ROBOT for Sale

Well another year past and here you are having another birthday whodathunktit Happy Birthday Father Time!!!!

Carroll Shelby, father of Cobra sports car, dies at 89

Hello Everyone: Thanks again for all of your prayers and support from my previous post about my Father being placed on hospice. My 88 year old Father passed away early this morning. He is no longer suffering and is in a better place now. We are all doing fine so far. Thanks again for your concern and prayers...Mark

My dad passed many, many years ago but I still think of him often. On the day of his passing, a friend gave me a piece of paper with this written on it. I have carried it every since and would like to share. SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE When I was a child, my father sometimes took me for walks in the late afternoon. We would wander down through the pasture, not hurrying. He would tell me the names of the trees, point out birds nest so well hidden that the careless eye would never see it. Sometimes, if the day was uncommonly warm, he would say to me, “Walk in my shadow. I’ll be your shade.” Even now, I recall how good it was to be a child, exploring the fields, becoming aware of the natural order of life, watching the miracles of the changing seasons, safe in his shadow, protected by the shade he provided me. One day we discovered that I had grown too tall to fit into his shadow. We didn’t speak of it. We just both knew that the time had come for us to walk side by side, each casting his own shadow. Later still, I came to understand that the shadow of my father was as it was because the man who cast it was who he was: big enough, strong enough, wise enough to be my shelter till I was sufficiently strong to step outside and walk my own way. My father gave me the best of himself, his shadow and his substance. Today, I took my own son walking through those same fields. When we stopped, I noticed that he stepped closer, letting my shadow cover his small head. In a moment I felt the pangs of sweet memory, the quick flash of pride, and the fear of my own uncertainty of this life. All these in a blink so that I could not tell which was first or last. As I stood there, I felt, ever so softly, a familiar touch on my shoulder. The touch which, for so long, urged me forward or turned me aside. I didn’t look, for I knew that touch and from where it came deep inside me. In that same instant I knew that my father was still there, urging me forward, guiding my hand and words. For I am my father’s shadow and his substance.

well as some know on here i go up and do some work at the homeless shelter. i handed out hats and gloves today with the other staff members there. i did not stay for dinner. but here is how my day ended i met a nice gentleman by the name of steve olson. he is veteran from the vietnam war. he is homeless. well i been talking to steve for a long time. and got to know him as much as he was willing to share with me. he tould me how he got divorced and hard times fell on him. he left his only child behind when she was 17. he never made any type of contact with her since then. he said he,s to ashamed. so i asked him what her name was? i was surprised he told me. well last night i took a chance and looked on face book for a karen olson from dayton Ohio area i found 3 and then i sent out a message to the 3 of them asking if i may ask if they have a dad named steve? well i got an answer from a nice woman in her mid 30,s that said yes she did have a father by that name. but thinks he passed away? as she has not seen or heard from him in years. i said this might shock you but i think i know where your father is? and i went on to describe him. she was all excited and asked if he was ok? i said yes as much as i can tell hes ok. he stops in at the homeless shelter every night here. she said she realy would like to see him. so she is headed up here friday. and asked if we can make sure he does not know. and that he stays in the area. i think steve is finaly going to go home.

I would like to take a second to day and say thank you to all the Veterans out there from where ever you may be from and how and where ever you may have served. We and our families are safe and free because of you and those that gave their lives for us. It is pouting rain in my city, I am going to go get dressed warm and head to our local Cenotaph and watch the military parade into our town. I will remember my father and his brothers that all served time in Europe during WWII. I will remember my mother that went to work at the ship yard to help build the ships my father served on for 25 years. I will think of how lucky I have been to have had so many give so much for me to be free. Thank you This from my friend Calvin's website: http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.barkingmadspeedshop.com%2F2011%2F11%2Fnovember-11-remembrance-day.html%3Fspref%3Dfb&h=NAQG10n1WAQEzwSKd8hzWGCLWdXFKnTOonhiDFnofD4yCHQ

Boudreaux, an 80-year-old South Louisiana Cajun, goes to the doctor for his every year check-up. The doctor is amazed at what good shape he is in and asks, "How do you stay in such great physical condition, Boudreaux?" “I stay in the swamp and I hunt and fish every day", said the old Cajun. "Dat's why I'm in such good shape. I'm up well before daylight and out hunting or fishing all day. I have a beer for breakfast and at lunch and wid my supper. And, I have a shot of hooch before bed time. And, I say my prayers every night. And all is well wid me." Well", says the doctor, "I'm sure the prayers help, but there's got to be more to it. How old was your father when he died?" "Who said Pop is dead?" The doctor is amazed. "You mean you are 80 years old and your father is still alive? How old he is?" "Pop be 100 next month," replied Boudreaux. "In fact, he hunted with me dis mornin', and den we went to a beer joint for a while and had a few beers and dat's why he's still alive. He is a tough Cajun man and he hunts and fishes everyday, too.” "Well, the doctor says, that's great! But, I'm sure there's more to it than that. How about your father's father? How old was he when he died?" "Who said my Paw Paw's dead?" Stunned, the doctor asks, "You mean you are 80 years old, your father is 100 and your grandfather is still living? Incredible! How old he is?" "We tink 'bout 118." says the old Cajun. He likes his beer, too, but he won't touch the hard stuff." The doctor is getting frustrated at this point, "So, I guess your grandfather went hunting and fishing with you and your father this morning, too?" "No, Paw Paw couldn't go dis time. He's gettin' married today." At this point the doctor is close to losing it. "Getting married! Why would a 118-year-old man want to get married?" Boudreaux looked down at the floor and mumbled "Who said he wanted to?"

Jiggy A young lad from Glovertown, Newfoundland goes off to University, but halfway through the semester he foolishly has squandered all of his money. He calls home. 'Dad,' he says, 'you won't believe what modern education is developing. They actually have a program here in St. John's that could teach our dog "Jiggy" how to talk.' 'That's amazing!' his Dad says 'How do I get Jiggy in that program?' 'Just send him in here with $1200,' the young lad says, 'I'll get him in the course.' So his father sends the dog "Jiggy" and $1200. About two-thirds through the semester, the money again runs out. The young lad calls home. 'So how's Jiggy doing, son?' his father wants to know. 'Awesome! Dad, he's talking up a storm. But you just won't believe this. They've had such good results with talking, they've begun to teach the animals how to read.' 'Read?!' exclaims his father. 'No kidding! How do we get our Jiggy in that program?' 'Just send $2300. I'll get him in the class for sure.' The money promptly arrives. But our hero has a problem. At the end of the year, his father will find out the dog can neither talk nor read. So he shoots the dog. When he arrives home at the end of the year, his father is all excited. 'Where's my Jiggy? I just can't wait to talk with him, and see him read something!' 'Dad,' the young lad says, 'I have some grim news. Yesterday morning, just before we left to drive home, Jiggy was in the living room, kicked back in the recliner, reading the Evening Telegram. Then he suddenly turned to me and asked, 'So, is your daddy still messing around with that little redhead working in the bakery at the grocery store?'' The father groans and whispers, 'I hope you shot that son of a b itch before he talks to your Mother!' 'I sure did, Dad!' 'That's my boy!' The kid went on to be a successful lawyer.

A teenage boy had just passed his driving test and inquired of his father as to when they could discuss his use of the car. His father said he'd make a deal with his son, "You bring your grades up from a C to a B average, study your Bible a little, and get your hair cut. Then we'll talk about the car."The boy thought about that for a moment, decided he'd settle for the offer, and they agreed on it. After about six weeks his father said, "Son, you've brought your grades up and I've observed that you have been studying your Bible, but I'm disappointed you haven't had your hair cut." The boy said, "You know, Dad, I've been thinking about that, and I've noticed in my studies of the Bible that Samson had long hair, John the Baptist had long hair, Moses had long hair, and there's even strong evidence that Jesus had long hair." 　 　 "Did you also notice they all walked everywhere they went?"

A little boy got on the bus, sat next to a man reading a book, and noticed he had his collar on backwards. The little boy asked why he wore his collar backwards. The man, who was a priest, said, 'I am a Father..' The little boy replied, 'My Daddy doesn't wear his collar like that.' The priest looked up from his book and answered, ''I am the Father of many.' The boy said, ''My Dad has 4 boys, 4 girls and two grandchildren and he doesn't wear his collar that way!' The priest, getting impatient, said. 'I am the Father of hundreds', and went back to reading his book. The little boy sat quietly thinking for a while, then leaned over and said, "Maybe you should wear a condom, and put your pants on backwards instead of your collar."

A son asked his mother the following question: 'Mom, why are wedding dresses white?' The mother looks at her son and replies: 'Son, this shows your friends and relatives that your bride is pure.' The son thanks his Mom and goes off to double-check this with his father. 'Dad why are wedding dresses white?' The father looks at his son in surprise and says: 'Son, all household appliances come in white.'

As you all know my father has been in the hospital for just over three months. Today at 2:30 pm my father quietly passed away. His body just seemed to decide it had enough and shut down. I never thought I would suddenly feel such a huge emptyness as I did when he slipped away. My Father has been a big part of my life and I know everytime I swing a carpenters hammer to drive a nail or saw a piece of wood I am going to feel his absence, because everything I learned about building houses I learned from him. His favourite phrases were always 1- a job worth doing is worth doing right. and 2-never trust another mans tape measure.

My Father, who is 86 years old, had surgery this past Monday to repair an Abdominal aortic aneurysm, 6.6 cm in dia... While they were in repairing the aneurysm, they found He also had a twisted bowel which they corrected as well. The first three days after surgery he seemed to be recovering very well. But by the forth day he started halucinating and is now totally delerious. As well his abdomin is starting to look very bloted and the nurses are hinting at the possibility of a post surgery infection. He is not sleeping, and and is having constant conversations with people from his past who are no longer with us. My father went through two wars.one being WWII were as a youth he was in and out of prison camps having escaped twice and later helped with the dutch underground and red cross units. After that he joined the dutch Marines and spent two years in jungle warefare in Indonesia, were he led a small demolition and tactical assault team. The events of those years is were he seems to revert to the most were he dwells on lost friends and team members. Or relives the horrors he has Gone through or witnessed. Needless to say we are very worried and hope He pulls out of this well and healthy, and I am asking for prayers on his behalf.

How to keep a woman happy.... Priceless! It's not difficult to make a woman happy. A man only needs to be: 1. A friend 2. A companion 3. A lover 4. A brother 5. A father 6. A master 7. A chef 8. An electrician 9. A carpenter 10. A plumber 11. A mechanic 12. A decorator 13. A stylist 14. A cosmotologist 15. A dermatologist 16. A psychologist 17. A pest exterminator 18. A psychiatrist 19. A healer 20. A good listener 21. An organizer 22. A good father 23. Very clean 24. Sympathetic 25. Athletic 26. Warm 27. Attentive 28. Gallant 29. Intelligent 30. Funny 31. Creative 32. Tender 33. Strong 34. Understanding 35. Tolerant 36. Prudent 37. Ambitious 38. Capable 39. Courageous 40. Determined 41. True 42. Dependable 43. Passionate 44. Compassionate WITHOUT FORGETTING TO: 45. Give her compliments regularly 46. Love shopping 47. Be honest 48. Be very rich 49. Not stress her out 50. Not look at other girls AND AT THE SAME TIME, YOU MUST ALSO: 51. Give her lots of attention, but expect little yourself 52. Give her lots of time, especially time for herself 53. Give her lots of space, never worrying about where she goes IT IS VERY IMPORTANT: 54. Never to forget: * birthdays * anniversaries * arrangements she makes HOW TO MAKE A MAN HAPPY 1. Leave him alone Rod

This is a wonderful story ... Be patient & please read it until the end .... I promise you'll enjoy it ....it was sent to me by ibents.... This is a story of an aging couple told by their son who was President of NBC NEWS. This is a wonderful piece by Michael Gartner, editor of newspapers large and small and president of NBC News. In 1997, he won the Pulitzer Prize for editorial writing. It is well worth reading, and a few good chuckles are guaranteed. Here goes ... My father never drove a car. Well, that's not quite right. I should say I never saw him drive a car. He quit driving in 1927, when he was 25 years old, and the last car he drove was a 1926 Whippet. "In those days," he told me when he was in his 90s, "to drive a car you had to do things with your hands, and do things with your feet, and look every which way, and I decided you could walk through life and enjoy it or drive through life and miss it." At which point my mother, a sometimes salty Irishwoman, chimed in: "Oh, bull ****!" she said. "He hit a horse." "Well," my father said, "there was that, too." So my brother and I grew up in a household without a car. The neighbors all had cars -- the Kollingses next door had a green 1941Dodge, the VanLaninghams across the street a gray 1936 Plymouth, the Hopsons two doors down a black 1941 Ford -- but we had none. My father, a newspaperman in Des Moines , would take the streetcar to work and, often as not, walk the 3 miles home. If he took the streetcar home, my mother and brother and I would walk the three blocks to the streetcar stop, meet him and walk home together. My brother, David, was born in 1935, and I was born in 1938, and sometimes, at dinner, we'd ask how come all the neighbors had cars but we had none. "No one in the family drives," my mother would explain, and that was that. But, sometimes, my father would say, "But as soon as one of you boys turns 16, we'll get one." It was as if he wasn't sure which one of us would turn 16 first. But, sure enough , my brother turned 16 before I did, so in 1951 my parents bought a used 1950 Chevrolet from a friend who ran the parts department at a Chevy dealership downtown. It was a four-door, white model, stick shift, fender skirts, loaded with everything, and, since my parents didn't drive, it more or less became my brother's car. Having a car but not being able to drive didn't bother my father, but it didn't make sense to my mother. So in 1952, when she was 43 years old, she asked a friend to teach her to drive. She learned in a nearby cemetery, the place where I learned to drive the following year and where, a generation later, I took my two sons to practice driving. The cemetery probably was my father's idea. "Who can your mother hurt in the cemetery?" I remember him saying more than once. For the next 45 years or so, until she was 90, my mother was the driver in the family. Neither she nor my father had any sense of direction, but he loaded up on maps -- though they seldom left the city limits -- and appointed himself navigator. It seemed to work. Still, they both continued to walk a lot. My mother was a devout Catholic, and my father an equally devout agnostic, an arrangement that didn't seem to bother either of them through their 75 years of marriage. (Yes, 75 years, and they were deeply in love the entire time.) He retired when he was 70, and nearly every morning for the next 20 years or so, he would walk with her the mile to St. Augustin's Church. She would walk down and sit in the front pew, and he would wait in the back until he saw which of the parish's two priests was on duty that morning. If it was the pastor, my father then would go out and take a 2-mile walk, meeting my mother at the end of the service and walking her home. If it was the assistant pastor, he'd take just a 1-mile walk and then head back to the church. He called the priests "Father Fast" and "Father Slow." After he retired, my father almost always accompanied my mother whenever she drove anywhere, even if he had no reason to go along. If she were going to the beauty parlor, he'd sit in the car and read, or go take a stroll or, if it was summer, have her keep the engine running so he could listen to the Cubs game on the radio. In the evening, then, when I'd stop by, he'd explain: "The Cubs lost again. The millionaire on second base made a bad throw to the millionaire on first base, so the multimillionaire on third base scored." If she were going to the grocery store, he would go along to carry the bags out -- and to make sure she loaded up on ice cream. As I said, he was always the navigator, and once, when he was 95 and she was 88 and still driving, he said to me, "Do you want to know the secret of a long life?" "I guess so," I said, knowing it probably would be something bizarre. "No left turns," he said. "What?" I asked. "No left turns," he repeated. "Several years ago, your mother and I read an article that said most accidents that old people are in happen when they turn left in front of oncoming traffic. As you get older, your eyesight worsens, and you can lose your depth perception, it said. So your mother and I decided never again to make a left turn." "What?" I said again. "No left turns," he said. "Think about it.. Three rights are the same as a left, and that's a lot safer. So we always make three rights." "You're kidding!" I said, and I turned to my mother for support. "No," she said, "your father is right. We make three rights. It works." But then she added: "Except when your father loses count." I was driving at the time, and I almost drove off the road as I started laughing. "Loses count?" I asked. "Yes," my father admitted, "that sometimes happens. But it's not a problem. You just make seven rights, and you're okay again." I couldn't resist. "Do you ever go for 11?" I asked. "No," he said " If we miss it at seven, we just come home and call it a bad day. Besides, nothing in life is so important it can't be put off another day or another week." My mother was never in an accident, but one evening she handed me her car keys and said she had decided to quit driving. That was in 1999, when she was 90. She lived four more years, until 2003. My father died the next year, at 102. They both died in the bungalow they had moved into in 1937 and bought a few years later for $3,000. (Sixty years later, my brother and I paid $8,000 to have a shower put in the tiny bathroom -- the house had never had one. My father would have died then and there if he knew the shower cost nearly three times what he paid for the house.) He continued to walk daily -- he had me get him a treadmill when he was 101 because he was afraid he'd fall on the icy sidewalks but wanted to keep exercising -- and he was of sound mind and sound body until the moment he died. One September afternoon in 2004, he and my son went with me when I had to give a talk in a neighboring town, and it was clear to all three of us that he was wearing out, though we had the usual wide-ranging conversation about politics and newspapers and things in the news. A few weeks earlier, he had told my son, "You know, Mike, the first hundred years are a lot easier than the second hundred." At one point in our drive that Saturday, he said, "You know, I'm probably not going to live much longer." "You're probably right," I said. "Why would you say that?" He countered, somewhat irritated. "Because you're 102 years old," I said.. "Yes," he said, "you're right." He stayed in bed all the next day. That night, I suggested to my son and daughter that we sit up with him through the night. He appreciated it, he said, though at one point, apparently seeing us look gloomy, he said: "I would like to make an announcement. No one in this room is dead yet" An hour or so later, he spoke his last words: "I want you to know," he said, clearly and lucidly, "that I am in no pain. I am very comfortable. And I have had as happy a life as anyone on this earth could ever have." A short time later, he died. I miss him a lot, and I think about him a lot. I've wondered now and then how it was that my family and I were so lucky that he lived so long. I can't figure out if it was because he walked through life, Or because he quit taking left turns. " Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat you right. Forget about the one's who don't. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance,take it & if it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it wouldmost likely be worth it." ENJOY LIFE NOW - IT HAS AN EXPIRATION DATE! gunk:smile5:

CATHOLIC GOLF Catholic or not you have to laugh at this one. A Catholic priest and a nun were taking a rare afternoon off and enjoying a round of golf. The priest stepped up to the first tee and took a mighty swing. He missed the ball entirely and said "****, I missed." The good Sister told him to watch his language. On his next swing, he missed again. "****, I missed." "Father, I'm not going to play with you if you keep swearing," the nun said tartly.. The priest promised to do better and the round continued. On the 4th tee, he misses again. The usual comment followed. Sister is really mad now and says, "Father John, God is going to strike you dead if you keep swearing like that." On the next tee, Father John swings and misses again. "****, I missed." A terrible rumble is heard and a gigantic bolt of lightning comes out of the sky and strikes Sister Marie dead in her tracks.. read on And from the sky comes a booming voice ...... "****, I missed."

Daddy, how was I born? A little boy goes to his father and asks 'Daddy, how was I born ?' The father answers, 'Well, son, I guess one day you will need to find out anyway! YourMom and I first got together in a chat room on Yahoo. Then I set up a date via e-mailwith your Mom and we met at a cyber-cafe. We sneaked into a secluded room, andgoogled each other. There your mother agreed to a download from my hard drive. As soon as I was ready to upload, we discovered that neither one of us had used afirewall, and since it was too late to hit the delete button ,nine months later a littlePop-Upappeared that said: Scroll down...You'll love this ....... http://venturerider.org/forum/image.php?u=1102&dateline=1273642320&type=thumb'You got Male!

Sorry friends for what I have to say, but coming home tonight I stumble unto an accident. I've seen my fair share of horrific accidents, but when it comes to children, it is hard to grasp. It had been raining with a some water standing on the roads. Just as I was coming in front of the main gate here at Camp Lejuene, a lady whom witnessed an accident was on the outside side of the road. Trees in the medium that were planted years ago in remembrance of the Marines lost in Beirut. In them trees was a ford P/U twisted among one of them with a man wondering beside. No other traffic stopped to help, so as I passed, slowed down, stopped and backed up and applied my 4-ways. Lady came to me to let me know 911 was called and was in fear as she was by herself other than her small child in her car that she could not leave unattended. I approached the man, he was in near shock. I asked if he was OK, and I he could say was."Where is my baby?" We were within 10" of his truck and I glanced over towards the truck. I wished I hadn't............. I knew there was nothing I could do for the 5 year old child. I will not go into what I seen , but it I tell you is one of the most heart breaking thing that one will endure is seeing a child in the manner that I had seen. All I knew now was to keep the father from going further into shock by talking with him , asking him simple questions to keep his thoughts away from what happened. I asked him his name, where he live, and then his wife's name. And then he told me he lost his wife 3 years ago and that he was a single parent and suddenly he pleaded,"Please go check on his son" repetitively. I knew there was nothing I could do for his son, but to say that he was OK for now and when the EMT arrives , they will do a better job to take care of him that we could. I could not , nor would not tell him what had happened to his loved one. Only to keep him occupied on answering simple questions to avoid him from going to his truck. It was about 10 minutes before another car stopped to help as many rubber-necked as they went by. A man gets out along with his wife to give me a blanket to lay the father down. Then a few more minutes before a lady stopped and thankfully she was a nurse. No one else knew that the child was in the truck until he cried out loudly again of his child. I could only give signals to others when the father wasn't looking that the child was lost, but she went over to the P/U to access what I have gestured to her. Soon, JPD arrived and took over the scene with the EMT and FD soon arriving shortly afterwords. I was relieved by the JPD as I did not witness the accident. I was only 15 miles from home and it was the longest 15 mile ride that I could remember. I cannot sleep right now though I tried, nor do I think I will fall asleep here soon. I don't lean on shoulders much , but this is really eating at me at it involved a child and hopefully letting this out might get some of it off my chest. Thanks for lending me your ear. BEER30

Unfortunately, I've never been to Germany to get back to my roots, so I just wanted to pass on a note... My father told me about a place called 'Henninger Brau' in Frankfurt, and apparently I'm related to them. I have a few wine glasses from there, and a few different cans/bottles of beer dated in the 70's when my father was there, but I'd love to get some more stuff! So, if you're ever stop in for a bier, feel free to pick something up with the Henninger name, and I will buy it from you... Thanks! Patrick Henninger

My Dad passed away a few weeks ago and I just heard Chet Atkins play this song. I figured I share it with anyone who has lost their Father. [ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6xpgtOObuI]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6xpgtOObuI[/ame]

I went to a local dealer here in Omaha, NE this past Saturday and was surprised to see 3 1st Gens. I haven't seen too many period, let alone at a dealer. I didn't talk with any of the Salesmen, (tough to find at this dealer). But, I did look them over some with my father. I know nothing about them, so I couldn't begin to guess what year(s). They definately are different than the 2nd Gens. To me, they remind me of the older Goldwings. - (No offense intended.) My father has never seen one before, but said he kinda liked them. craigr