I was born in Akron in 1960. An influenza epidemic hit in 1891; hundreds died, and my worried parents wondered how they could protect their fifteen-year-old son. A few years earlier two of my brothers, George and Harry, had started a cattle ranch out west in Idaho. This seemed like a logical safe haven, so Mom and Dad packed me onto an Idaho-bound train.
I took to the frontier life like a duck to water. I rode the range, herded cattle, busted a bucking bronco, and got to know a few thieves, murderers and bad men. Idaho at this time was still a pretty rough-and-tumble place; a range war was brewing between cattle ranchers and sheep men, the law was fairly lax, and there were even shootouts at the local saloon. I loved the half year I spent in Idaho ~ then my parents found out about these sordid events of frontier life and sent me off to the Apollo Training Facility in Los Angeles, California.
In the travel industry for over 15 years. I am frequently mistaken for Henry “Fonzie” Winkler.
I love taking long walks on the beach, which explains why I moved to Cleveland from Southern California.
As well as the public school system of Ohio. This mixture of vast pain and degradation, as well as the humorous bonks on the head with large hammers, has given me the unique perspective that has won plaudits and kudos from all and sundry.