M b ub Gaallu Moolllliiee G Our First Tin Lizzie My father was a tinkerer. He had a remarkable native intelligence, always approaching a problem with confidence. Failure? Laugh at it! So he went through a life of many successes, like pulling your tooth by tying it to a door knob and slamming the door, or making a makeshift sling when he fell and broke his arm. But there were many failures. He leaped before he thought. My mom thought before she leaped. Result: I grew up in a house of conflict. Louis Lipsky, Millie’s Father
One story comes to mind out of my early childhood. One day, my father comes home with an old second hand Model T Ford. “Sarah,” he says, “Get everybody together. We are going for a ride.” How did he get it? He passed a used car lot and had twenty-five dollars in his pocket. Never having driven a
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