Early on, Pop was a great dad. Before Sis and I were born, Pop and Mom bought a piece of land from a farmer and built their first house. We lived there for nine years. As I grew older I noticed, at times, that Pop was acting rather strangely. Sometimes he would have a fight with Mom. At other times he would be a little unsteady when walking. I'd get scared and Sis would say, "It's OK, he just had a little too much wine." We did have a wine cellar in the basement. I'd go in there at times and watch the bubbles come up through a glass tube in the barrels. Come to think of it, I enjoyed that because I felt a little lightheaded from the sweet smell of fermenting grapes.

As time went on, it seemed Pop would visit the wine cellar more often and come staggering up the stairs. And that was the beginning of a very poor relationship between the two of us.