My father died in February of 1995 and his wake used to be reasonably an affair, as he used to be smartly appreciated and revered via individuals of Local 1033 of the United Steelworkers of America. He had served the union for a few years as a criticism committeeman, and via dusk his wake used to be packed, as used to be the parking space. I frequently to find myself enthusiastic about phrases that have been spoken to me simply as his wake started, phrases that have been cushy and type and true. The funeral director, Jim Betkowski of Elmwood Chapel, got here as much as me and apologized for, of all issues, my father’s palms. My father had