My Dad Dan'l Boone

So, on todays date, 58 years ago, my dear ol' Dad (hereafter referred to as 'Diddy') was born on top of a mountain in northwestern North Carolina. Diddy was the second to last of 5 kids. From what I understand he was kind of a rambunctious little kid, who spent most of his time running around the woods pretending he was Dan'l Boone, or Dan'l Boone's indian friend Ton'ta (also the name of my imaginary friend growing up...don't ask...) or an american nazi killin' Davey Crockett type supersoldier hybrid (they don't come any tougher than that!). Diddy was able to parlay his youthful fantasies of being a great woodsman and hero into actually *becoming* just that, one of the most amazing hunters and guides I have ever known. To this day Diddy and I can be engaged in something completely non-wilderness related and he will kind of go glassy eyed for a moment, look outside and then point out an obscure movement (that no human being should be able to see, period) that turns out to be a turkey, a deer, or a sasquatch (I'm still holding out for this one to happen). With all things, my Dad has been this way, amazing attention to detail and an amazing joy to share his world with those he loves.



I guess I say all this, to eventually arrive at this point...

Diddy, we haven't always seen eye to eye on things, but I want you to realize that you are and always will be a bigger hero to me than Dan'l Boone, Davey Crockett or even Barack Obama.




Happy Birthday Dad. I love you.