On the Saturday before Easter in 1969, I picked up the telephone and dialed the number for my Uncle Tony Couri’s house. At that time, I was 11 years old. I wanted to ask my cousin Gene Couri, who was the same age as I was, if his family was planning to go to our grandparents’ house for Easter. Gene and I shared the same grandparents, Tom and Effie Williams, and they had invited their children and grandchildren to join them for dinner on Easter Sunday.
On a Friday night about eight years ago, I got myself into an argument with one of my college age children (“the college student”). The argument centered around a certain movie that I thought was morally objectionable. At one point, the college student blurted out: “Dad, most Catholics would not agree with you about this movie. You’re too extreme when comes to things like this. I can only think of two other people who would agree with you: grandmother (my mom) and Aunt Patty.”