Читать книгу Photographs of My Father - Paul Spike - Страница 8

Here is a photograph of my father. Handsome and skinny, twenty-three years old, he is holding me in his arms.

Try to grow up when everything is starting to fall down. A difficult thing to try.

But some things are easy. The arithmetic of father and son: addition, subtraction, addition. I was born. My father was murdered. I grew up.

A biography should be written about my father’s life. That is not this book. I could never hope to give an “objective” picture of Rev. Dr. Robert W. Spike. Even his full title is difficult for me to put on paper. This book is a collection of pictures, family pictures, taken from years which stick in America’s back like daggers, developed in his blood, printed on my flesh.