My father had been assigned to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base for just a few months when a presidential candidate came to our suburban community.
Though I was still in kindergarten, my father took me to hear the speech delivered in a bowling alley parking lot. Of course, he realized the address would mean nothing to me. But maybe he thought I would want to be able to say I had seen this man, a fellow World War II veteran. I just don't know.
I remember my father held me up several times to make sure I got a glimpse of the person at the microphone. He wouldn't have put me on his shoulders because that would have blocked the view of the people behind us.