November 12, 1918. My father was born that day; his middle name was Pershing, after the general – the John J. one of the American Expeditionary Force. My grandmother had the Spanish Flu before my father was born; he was her fifth child and first son. A couple of days ago I opened an old trunk and found letters my grandmother had written to him during the war – and one from his oldest sister Geraldine. And I found one of those little tiny calendars that kids pasted on construction paper for a school Christmas gift project in grade school. The year was 1957; I guess I made it in December of 1956. He saved it. And then I closed the trunk . . . for now.