The idea of writing about my husband Richard was somewhat daunting: How could I possibly come up with 1000 words about him? But as I started to reminisce and put together some notes, I came to realize that 1000 words would never be enough. Even I am surprised by the depth of this man, and I was only involved with him for the past 25 years. I totally missed the first 50!
Richard was raised in Reading, Pennsylvania, surrounded by a huge family of Krotts and Smiths. He terrorized his younger sister Linda and idolized his Uncle Ron, who lived with them for many years as did his Grandmother Smith. Grandmum would cook and clean for the family, while Mom did shift work as a seamstress in a clothing factory and Dad was a welder. Richard’s first job was in a soda company, bottling pop. He hunted and fished with his father and uncles, and some of his favorite memories were collecting coins and antique tools with his grandfather.
He was drafted at 18 and spent the next few years praying he would not get sent off to Vietnam. Somehow his prayers were answered when his orders were misplaced and, instead, he was discovered to be a tremendous marksman. He was placed on a competitive team, traveling the country shooting.
