The black hat has been my trademark, off and on, for roughly half my life. In college and my early adulthood, it was a Greek fisherman's hat. The broad-brimmed fedora -- known as the "outback" style; no, it's not a cowboy hat -- has been de rigeur since the mid-1980s. In this photo recently uploaded by my sister Pat for the "family album" on Facebook, we see its first incarnation fifty-five years ago this month. As financial secretary for his Knights of Columbus council, Dad was chosen among those representing Ohio at the Annual K of C Convention, held that year in Denver, Colorado. He and Mom made the most of it, climbing Pike's Peak (with the assistance of a shuttle bus), and brought us back these matching fashion statements. From left to right is yours truly (6 1/2 years), my sister Mary (5 years), and my brother Stephen (4 years). Patricia was to show up one year and four months later.
I have no idea why my eyes are closed, never mind what happened to that hat. I would have loved to have had it bronzed for posterity. Of course, then it wouldn't be black.
Steve looks pretty sure of himself, don't you think?
Or don't you?
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