Back in the annals of film, there was a pretty forgettable movie (I forgot the title) about a guy that went back in time, mucked around for a while there and, rather than return, decided to stay and create a life in a previous era. Was never heard from again. Then one day, it came time to tear down the aging home he had always lived in and his generations found a carefully hidden crevice constructed to fall open if and when the house was ever razed. Inside that crevice there were paintings of him as a young man on his arrival, then ultimately married, his kids and their kids and finally an old man on his deathbed. He had placed the paintings there as markers of his full life there in the past and wanted his former friends to know it had all been good.

This volume II of a series of missives about my life is specifically written for my kids and hopefully their kids and their kids to someway pull out of a dusty pile and have some idea who I was and what my life was.