Over the past two weeks I was able to talk to Doug over the phone. I didn't mention the past, neither did he. We tried to talk as if we were "brothers" and we did manage to have nice conversations. I told him, since he liked science fiction, that he might go see Star Wars. He said he might have someone wheel him down to the theater in his wheel chair. On our second conversation, I could tell he was in pain, and we talked about his wife and his faith. He had converted to Christianity and was very content with his decision. The simple truth is that I did not "know" the man. Our childhood un-pleasantries doomed any future relationship from the start. I don't know his story. I do know his dad's, though. His dad married my mom, put a roof over my head, food on the table, helped me go to college and become a professional pilot. His dad was a decent and honorable man, and, by association, I am giving the same to Doug. There is a Jewish saying when someone passes. It is this. May his memory be a blessing. RIP Douglas Fraser.
That's the way I see it, today, January 31st, 2016.