Today, January 25th, is my late father's birthday. A lot of people in my profession use aliases. My legal name is Steven Harold Wiley, after my father, and his father. Harold R. Wiley was born on today's date in a small upstate New York town 1929, the son of Harold & Bertha Wiley. He came from a generation whose collective work ethic now seems like a distant memory. Dad worked from childhood delivering papers, and various other jobs. He enlisted in the Army at 17. Dad served in post WWII Japan, teaching English to Japanese school children. He worked his way through college, earning a masters degree, and pursued a long career as a teacher, and school administrator. My father was principal of my high school. I graduated on my 18th birthday, and he presented me with my diploma. Dad was an avid outdoorsman. His favorite place to be was a secluded spot in the Adirondack mountains, called Brantingham... mine, too. He served as president of the lake association, and headed a partnership that created a man made lake in the area. Dad enjoyed hunting, fishing, swimming, sailing, & water skiing. We shared a passion for snowmobiling. Mom & Dad raised 5 kids. I'm the "middle kid." Dad was left handed. I'm the only "southpaw" from the brood. He was a die hard fan of the "New York football Giants."  They won their first Super Bowl (XXI) on this date in 1987. My father left us on May 2nd, 2001. I'm not mourning my father today. Quite the contrary.

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