My father, Lester Mark Lehman (1910-1981) was born today, one hundred years ago (12/11/10). It's a good time to say again, Dad, I love you. He was born a preemie and thought to have little chance to survive. Care involved hardly more than carrying him around on a pillow. His mother bore her next child 11 months later. But dad did survive and went on to rise up through the ranks of the Pennsylvania Railroad, from carpenter's helper to eventually full carpenter. Here's a photo of him in likely first grade at the one room school along Rte 340 between Bird-in-Hand and Intercourse. The second photo was taken about 1972, with his oldest child, Milton, and oldest grandchild, Angela.
Here's what my dad wrote me December 15, 1968, on a Christmas card he and mother sent to me in the Congo:
Dear Glenn,
This is Sunday evening the 15th, sitting at the kitchen table with Mother writing a few lines. Loretta is away. Weather outside is 20 degrees above zero, blowing and very cold. I appreciate the birthday card signed by my three sons. Very nice.
Things are going as usual. Family gatherings over Thanksgiving and Christmas. We all miss you each time. It makes us feel good to know after this Christmas we can or hope to share our joy and happiness together again. We as your parents wish you God's blessing till we meet again.
With love, your Father
And till we meet again, Dad, my love again to you.
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