"Dave? Dave's Not Here."*

Nope. Dave's not here. He hasn't been here for a long time now.

Dave (known to me as Daddo -- my father) was a decent man.

He was born in Pulaski, Tennessee to kind of a large family (I think he said there were 6 or 7 of them -- not as large as most at that time). His dad (I believe) was a farmer (because Daddo had told me a few times that he was always so glad that he "left the farm").

When he left the farm, he went into the Army where he was a part of the kitchen crew…working his way up to cook. This was about the time of the Korean war. I don't know how, but he did get injured during the war (he had lost a ¼ of his stomach). Somehow he made his way to New Jersey where he met a girl named Margaret at a USO dance. (Enter the woman I knew as Muzzy -- my mom).

Against all the odds (he was a "farm boy" and very lapsed Baptist and she was a northern gal who practiced Catholicism), they fell in love and got married on the
10th of August (which is also the PF's and mine anniversary).

When he got out of the Army, Daddo got in on the ground floor of the computer business. He worked for the State of New Jersey in their "computer lab" (as it was called back then, it took up the entire 3rd floor at the Labor & Industry building in Trenton). I remember visiting him at work (he worked the 3-11 shift, while Muzzy worked the 7-3 shift at St. Francis Hospital (she was a Phlebotomist -- fancy word for blood sucker)). I especially remember one of the people he worked with had a "Road Runner" stuffed animal on their desk, and me and my sisters would always go over an play with it. This computer lab used to run their back-up on these 'reels' of tape (they kind of reminded me of the reels used for movies, they were that big). And boy were they loud.

Daddo worked with the State almost until he passed away (I believe he had the stroke first, which caused him to get out on disability--so he never actually retired from the job).

He was a good dad to us. He was always quick with a joke (his favorite thing to joke about was that if any of his girls (there are 5 of us) wanted to get married; the guys could find the ladder in the backyard).

There was a bad side to him too: he was a drinker; which didn't help his depression at all. He tried (unsuccessfully) many times to give it up--but he couldn't. Even with us having an intervention for him (that was fun--NOT!), he still wouldn't give it up.

He always said he did not want to see his 60th birthday; and he didn’t. He passed away one month to the day.

Today Daddo would have been 76 years old.

Cheers Daddo…we still miss you.

[David Sherman Norwood -- 8/16/1934-7/16/1994]

More later….Booboo

*[Thanks to Cheech & Chong for that one.]