My 84-year old father, who has been struggling with hydrocephalus for a few years, took a very serious fall this morning at about 2 am and hit his head. What followed was massive inner-cranial bleeding, a coma, a do-not resuscitate order, and he is now in hospice waiting for the inevitable.
David M. Burns was born to the town drunk in the poorest town in Kentucky, never graduated from high school, and yet he got his GED in the Air Force, graduated from Princeton, married the love of his life, Sandra Dunlop, toured the world as a representative of the U.S. Government (living in Syria, Lebanon, Iran, Zimbabwe, Mali, Tunisia, Morocco, Algeria), learned both Arabic and French, bought and gave to the State of Kentucky a square mile of land to protect an old growth forest forever, started the first climate program at the American Association for the Advancement of Science, wrote the first editorial on climate change in The New York Times, built a custom house on Dupont Circle, and toured the world with the Buck Clayton Quintet playing upright bass and trombone.
He married well and stayed married for 58 years. His greatest bequest to his two sons is a sense of honesty and integrity. His greatest find was his lovely wife who shared those values and who smoothed out his wrinkles as best she could.
I am proud of the Old Man. Proud to be my parent's son. You bastards should have been so lucky.
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