We had a sad happening in our family on December 8th when my brother, Harold, died of a heart attack. What made is worse was that it was one of the most bitter nights of a very cold winter. He had just gotten into his car to make a call on a customer and still had his hand on the door and had turned on the ignition, but hadn’t started the car when he slumped over the wheel. They didn’t find him until 10:30 the next morning and it was hard thinking of him in that car during that bitter night. But we know he didn’t suffer. More about this when I get to this year in my history. That will be about 1,000 pages later because of all the most interesting parts of my life are later than where I left off in 1977.