52 years ago my dad, James Kregg Pierson, was born in Seminole, Texas. Ever since then, he has left his mark wherever he goes: as a college student waving at a bus driver in Houston, not to catch the bus, but just "being friendly;" as a young husband and father in Massachusetts looking with bewilderment at a student who asked to go the basement (bathroom) and replying, "Our schools don't have basements in Texas;" as an English teacher in Abilene enlightening his 8th grade students with the unique music of Bob Dylan; and as an English teacher in Japan who continued to ride his bicycle to work in the freezing temperatures of the winter months.
I appreciate that my father is an avid reader and a sports enthusiast. He is musical, comical, and unconventional. He exercises habitually. He volunteers to serve coffee at the Abilene High library before school. He enjoys studying new languages. He is an all-around fan of whatever and whoever might appreciate the support. He is a faithful disciple of Christ. He is a constant journalist. He is a storyteller. He is an adventurous bicyclist and backpacker. He is K-Papa to his granddaughter. And, it must be said, he is a geezer. Happy Birthday, Dad!
