Was a long time ago, this evening.
My Father was training with another pilot in a B-47 bomber. Father had been flying a good part of the day, doing aerial refueling practice. Switched off with the other guy and the other fellow was doing touch-n-goes under the eyes of an I.P. Third TNG, the aircraft turned wide going from crosswind to downwind and descended to the ground. Hit and came apart.
I never really knew him, but still felt his absence.
Mom remarried and that was "Dad", whom I thought the world of and still miss him even though he has been gone awhile and was proud that he thought of me as his Son.
I was lucky , to have a Father, and a Dad.
One day, on Fathers Day, it would be nice to be at Fathers grave, in New York, to honor him and catch a flight to California, to visit Dads grave, to also honor him.