Last month, my dad brought in some books that mean a lot to me.
First you ought to know that this sheet metal thing is in my genes. I’ve been at Stevenson Company for 20-some years. My dad owned the place before I arrived, and my grandfather worked here even before that. He lived five blocks from the shop. After he retired and we still worked, it was nice to buzz over to his house, where he had lunch waiting, along with some sage advice and the day’s news.
Pop is gone now, but while sorting through his tools and other belongings Dad uncovered these dusty old apprenticeship books. The inside flap has the address of his temporary U.S. Army station in Germany, sent compliments of Topeka Trade School.