Seems like people always ask me if I come from a musical family. Until recently, the answer has been no. Except for occasional harmonica jam sessions with my Pappaw, I really don’t have a musical heritage.

Then this surfaced.

This is my dad in 1957. Clearly there was talent waiting to be discovered. Who knows how many songs would have been written (and muskrat lives spared) if Dad had only pursued this obvious passion instead of hunting or trapping.

I love you Dad. Happy Father’s Day!