Enjoy the holiday! It comes to you at a high price

Wyatt Emmerich

THE PHOTO of Billy Elmore has always haunted me. It pops up every now and then as my computer screen rotates through thousands of stored photos.

He is a handsome lad, far younger than I am today. His appearance reminds me of my oldest son John. He has a long, handsome face.

I am probably the only person of my generation who could recognize his face. He died in World War II in 1942 and left no children. He was my great-uncle. My mother’s mother’s brother.