Family | The man whose job was not to tell you how smart you are—but how smart you aren’t
by John R. Erickson
Posted 6/18/16, 08:58 am
I was 2 years old in 1945 when my father returned from military service in World War II. He was anxious to see the son he knew only through photos and letters. Mother said that when he walked into the house, sporting a beard and wearing his Army uniform, I ran screaming from the room and hid in a closet.
He was furious. Joseph Erickson and I got off to a rocky start.