My father, James Francis Clowery, in uniform.
Ohio State lawyer;
Mom called him Jamie,
His brothers called him June.
He quoted the poetry of William Butler Yeats.
He put his baritone ukulele into my hands.
He returned from Mexico with a Geronimo Villafan guitar for my birthday.
He called my mother into the living room, she dissolved into tears at the first sight of a Baldwin spinet piano, wrapped in a huge red ribbon.