My father was born on his parents’ kitchen table on a cold winter’s day in 1938. It was the end of the Great Depression and the Second World War loomed; the front page of The Globe that day was filled with warnings: rising tensions with the Nazis, Mussolini and Japan. He would grow up in the wake of those two catastrophes in a family that didn’t have much. As a boy, he would often get into trouble with his older brothers and he initially dropped out of high school. But in the end, he wo...
