We weren’t actually there to watch the basketball game. Our primary purpose (or so we thought,) in braving the cold, windy December Chicago evening, was to catch a few minutes of our granddaughter’s cheer routine at half-time. The girls stood…

As I pored over photographs, a particular one, my dad and I performing our Sunday afternoon ritual of reading the funny papers, caught my attention. Sprawled on the living room floor under the swamp cooler I (four years old), in…