See the dark-haired man on the right? That's Dave.
He was one of the regular bridge players in my dad's group; sexy and handsome my sister and I thought, and he's Italian which back then, as a preteen, added to the thrill when I'd get to serve the pretzels and peanuts at the start of their card game.
Dave sent me this photo last March, two months after my dad died and just as the 2011 ACC tournament began. I cried then and I cried as I positioned it on the refrigerator door for this year's tournament. I'll put it up next year too, sure to cry again.
The man farthest left was a big contributor to their university and through his generosity, the group had seats at the ACC each year. Those weekends were packed full of basketball and beer and booze and bridge and my dad loved every minute of it all.
Tourney weekends went on for many years but at some point, a few wives began to join them. The atmosphere must have surely changed, how could it not, and though forever grateful for the invitations, in his later years, reminiscing about those times, my dad would say their inclusion ruined it and "it all went to hell".
That was my dad; 'Ol Ern, Dave called him.
Do you see him? He's the guy there in the middle with the biggest, truest laugh.
He was the guy having the most fun.
My gratitude to the wife who took this photo.
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