That's my dad celebrating #88 this week, wearing his St. Mary's shirt. Growing up, it was easy to dwell on the left brain / right brain divide that I perceived between my father and I. He the aerospace engineer, me the journalist. But revisiting his story has taught me much about my own. I never knew my grandfather, but perhaps I picked up some of my newspaper genes from him, who worked the presses after the turn of the last century in Mexico City. Here, my dad reflects on the gift of his father. I am grateful for mine. "My thoughts in that occasion were also turned to the determination that I always observed in my father. Even without formal education, or perhaps because of it, my dad viewed all things as possible and acted accordingly. He was admired and respected by all that came in contact with him at work -- which was really his only world as he religiously and relentlessly utilized all his talents in the support and formation of his family. There were not a problem with the linotype machines that he could not solve, often taking them completely apart for maintenance and repair. He often offered counsel and admonished me that if I tried and worked hard enough I could do anything under this earth. Whatever slivers of these traits I have acquired I owe to the example I saw in my dear father."