Dad Didn’t Dilly-Dally
Remembering Don Torell
I remember Dad as a handsome, strong, young man in his thirties, striding down our lane in Whites logging boots, blue jeans, and a dark green US Forest Service jacket. His walk toward me was brisk and purposeful. First my hug, but then he had chores to do and thoughts to think. He didn’t dilly-dally.
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