We're celebrating my dad's 94th birthday today. On the day of his birth, April 25, 1912, the world was still coming to grips with the sinking of the Titanic just ten days earlier.
My dad wasn't the youngest for long. Two years later, on April 29, 1914, his little red-headed brother showed up.
Their lives intertwined for nearly 50 years. As boys they worked on farm chores, rode horses, swam naked in the Sevier River and hunted Jack Rabbits together. They went to school and college together, studying studying agriculture and forestry at Utah State University.
During World War II, Joe served in the FBI, while Rich joined the Army and served in the Battle of the Bulge.
They both married beautiful, talented, strong women who loved their handsome husbands, their children, music, art, exploration and cuisine. Each couple reared two children, a son and a daughter.
Dad died unexpectedly in 1963, but Uncle Rich lived until 2003, joking "If I knew I'd live this long, I'd have taken better care of myself." After 40 years apart, the birthday brothers are again together.