…ran away from home at fifteen, lied about his age to join the army and fight Pancho Villa, started a bank and later, adopted my mother.  Here he is the way I remember him, on his patio in Kansas City cooking his famous ribs.  Served with hush puppies (one of the most incredible things my sister Robbie and I ever gobbled down).  He’d spend all day back by the bbq slow-cooking them with a bottle of bourbon at hand.  The ribs had a secret ingredient.  Sadly, he took the secret to his grave along with many other mysteries we’ll never know the answers to.