To my young eyes, my father had always been a man of Abrahamic proportions: a passionate believer, ardent of heart, lithe of mind, a compelling evangelist--he had converted his own parents to Christian faith. He never cussed, he never lost his temper, he rarely cried. He was the most upbeat, optimistic person that I, in the narrow circle of my life, had ever encountered. And he had an almost Abrahamic sense of divine destiny that he carried with him. He…
James V. BrownsonAugust 1, 2003