Tuxedo

My father
My father
My father In his death, my father, Glenn Vernon Martin, did something he could not do in life. He brought our family together. After he died at age 83, many of his friends told me how much they loved him?how generous he was, how outgoing, how funny, how caring. I was surprised at these descriptions. During my teenage years, there was little said to me that was not criticism. I remember him as angry. But now, ten years after his death, I recall events that seem to contradict my memory of him. Whe