Reason 9,841 why I'm proud of my father.
It was Sunday afternoon. We were standing on the dock chatting while he pumped water out of the floats on his plane. A boy, about 10 years of age, approached across the lawn. He was visually impaired, tapping his way with a cane and assisted by an older man, his father.
He shook hands with my father - bush pilot, hunter, banjo-player, dog-lover - and presented him with a bottle of wine and a note, written in Braille and English.
"Dear Mr. Graham, Thank you for letting me go up in your plane and letting
me fly it the first time. I hope you have a good summer. From Cameron."
And just like that, my father taught me that sometimes doing a favor for someone else is the greatest gift you can give yourself.
