Doing the right thing was something that Pop took for granted in his children. And I only disobeyed him once.

Once when I was ten years old–Pop was 63 at the time, he told me to do something that I didn’t do. “Come here,” he said; but I ran away. He ran after me. I darted across the road. He followed, stumbled and fell. I was horrified. I hurried back, helped Pop to his feet. He had knocked out one of his teeth. I have never forgotten the emotions–the sense of horror, shame, ingratitude, and selfishness–that overwhelmed me. I adored him, would have given my life for him in a flash–and here I had hurt him, disobeyed him! Never did he have to admonish me again; and this incident became a source of tremendous discipline that has lasted through the years.