
He was a man 6' 3" tall, muscular and a hard worker. He was also known as a walking alcoholic. He could go to work in the steel mill having had his quota of straight-up whiskey, supervise a crew of men in the blast furnace and be extremely safety conscious. That takes skill. But the main thing I remember is that he had a great talent for playing baseball.
Hearing the stories from him and others about his fastball, pitching no hitter games and his passion was amazing. There was never another subject that would change his face and gestures while speaking except baseball. He was born in 1909 and by the 1930s was a recognized player not only by locals but the majors as well.
I can't remember if it was the White or Red Sox that offered him a contract to come play with

Growing up in the environment of lost dreams and shattered lives, is not a healthy way to live. But it made an indelible print on me. He gave in to my mother, he stayed at the steel plant, and hated life and everything about it.
My lesson learned was simply this: To hold to the dream and vision, sometimes other things have to either go away completely or take a side seat. It is important to have those who value you and your dream in your circle of influence. Sometimes keeping the dream alive is lonely. Don't be afraid to tweak it. Dream followers live on the edge, you have to take chances.
So even through the very rough times, I took away a positive. He taught me to work hard and not stop. Get a plan, a dream, a vision--go for it. My two brothers didn't do that, they took the safe route and were miserable in the end, always looking for the tail of the comet instead of riding it through the universe of could be.