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.