He never talked about himself as an object of pity, nor did he show any envy of the more fortunate or able. What he looked for in others was a "good heart", and if he found one, the owner was good enough for him.
Now that I am older, I believe that is a proper standard by which to judge people, even though I still don' t know precisely what a "good heart" is. But I know the times I don’t have one myself.
Unable to engage in many activities, my father still tried to participate in some way. When a local sandlot baseball team found itself |without a manager, he kept it going. He was a knowledgeable baseball fan and often took me to Ebbets Field to see the Brooklyn Dodgers play. He liked to go to dances and parties, where he could have a good time just sitting and watching.
On one memorable occasion a fight broke out at a beach party, with everyone punching and shoving. He wasn't content to sit and watch, but he couldn't stand unaided on the soft sand. In frustration he began to shout, "I' ll fight anyone who will tit down with me!"
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