I was born in 1950 and raised on the bank of a slow river. I knew mosquitoes, muddpuppies, and how to bait a hook before I was four. I caught spinal menegitis and lived at a time when most people died from it at the cost of half my hearing. I was seeing and hearing the rhythym of silver being belted into shape by my father from the time I could walk. The cadence of his 10 oz. peaning hammer on an chunk of NYC rail still rings in the shop we shared. I began singing sea somgs and building steel boats. Being a boat builder was all I ever wanted to do. I built steel boats for several years until I crushed my right wrist and I was hurt too bad to continue. I began designing and building special equipment for people with disabilities. Along the way I got my left hand too close to a table saw and nearly lost all my fingers. Physical therapy and Dr. Walter Short, the musicians friend gave me back my hands. The work still more or less but they work and I accomodate. I have twin sons and a heartbreaking daughter a lovely wife and an old house. At night when the shop is still and the light is right I can still talk to my Dad.