by John Babin
No memory book of our Mother could be complete without
some 
thoughts
of her father, better known to us as “Big John”.
Happy were the days of learning how to bait a hook and catch a fish. He taught me how to drive a nail and replace a plug on a lamp. At night, we would listen to the baseball game on the radio just before I fell asleep. I will always remember the thrill of “helping” with the mail route.
I was taken out of school, that day, and someone found a way to tell me what had happened. In complete disbelief, I had to ask “Is it true, what they say, about Big John”? I have often wondered through my life - is he still proud of me?
