My Father passed away this week.

Born William M. Yaschuk in Winnipeg, Manitoba, in 1925, of Parents who immigrated to Canada from the Ukraine in Russia.

At age 17, my father enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force and saw duty in WW2 as a tail gunner/ radio operator in the Halifax Bomber Aircraft.

My father met my mother in Toronto, Canada, and they both worked for Canadian Pacific Railway, as teletype operators. My brother and I were born in Toronto, Canada. Somewhere along the line my father decided he wanted a better life for our family so he applied and was accepted to legally immigrate to the United States. I must admit he probably wanted to escape the cold winters as my Grandfather lost both of his legs due to amputation due to severe frostbite. (-40* F was not uncommon in the winter). Which reminds me of the stories of my father walking to school for 5 miles without any shoes in the wintertime.

When my father came to this country the first thing he did was legally change his name because he wanted an American name. He chose the name of the 6th president of the United States, and thus became Bill Adams.

My father worked for 25 years in the airline industry and it may or may not be a coincidence that he worked for American Airlines.

My father was a proud American, and of course he became an United States Citizen at first opportunity.

My father finished high school after me, but to his credit he earned a college degree before me. Never once in my lifetime have I ever known my father to take any state or federal handouts, unemployment or any other special programs. My father was a good man and he worked hard and took care of his family.

My father retired twice in California but after my mother passed away he moved out of state, because he always joked that he could afford to live twice as long, in any other state.

My father was in relatively good health and died peacefully in his sleep. I am very lucky to have had a man as good as he was, to be my Dad.