Me with my dad and two of my brothers standing on the ice in bay. It looks like we’re in Russia. I vividly remember this day — it was our first winter in Erie and we took a ride around the beach after church. My mother must have thought we were moving to the Arctic — what’s up with those fur hats?! I wonder if she’s standing on the ice too? At this time she would have either been nine months pregnant or had a one-month old baby. The note was on the back of a letter my dad wrote me in 1993.
