Last week I attended a women’s luncheon in downtown Orlando and got to chatting with a lady about handwriting or longhand, as we used to call it. I thought of the long hours I spent in first and second grades, pencil in hand, putting marks on scratchy, lined paper. Then once the block letters were…
I wrote this article yesterday in honor of my dad, Clifton J. Charpentier, and fathers everywhere on the day reserved just for them. Our fathers come in all shapes and sizes, colors and temperaments. Some people have dads who don’t share the same DNA but are their fathers in the truest sense of the word.…