[rhymes with “head save feed”]
What’re the odds that a poet be born into a family named Read – to have as his own proper noun, the Janus of a verb that always looks both ways? That is the tip of the iceberg of good luck that is my fate. It came to me from my father, David J. Read (1915-1963), who was a model citizen in the city of Oswego, NY, and a heroic soldier in the 1940’s fight against the ignorance of tyranny.
This photo indicates that winter came late to Oswego in 1948, as Christenings were usually scheduled several weeks after birth, which would date it to mid-December, 1948. St. Mary’s Church is recognizable in the background. His lapel seems to indicate that my father was sporting a double-breasted jacket, a never-before-seen event! Also, Nana, whom I barely got to know at all before her sudden death about ten years later, was famous for overstated hats!