Later on in the year, he began having health problems.

The splendid chronometer, that most exact time piece who got up at the same time, ate at the same time, went to bed at the same time, was starting to lose time. Actually his time on earth was being taken from him, initially in small ways—infections that took a long time to heal—and, finally, a sore throat that only got worse, despite all of his efforts.

When he had his gall bladder removed in 1965 his doctor had tried an experimental drug on him. It had resulted, however, in a lowering of his leukocytes, the white blood cells that are the body's infection fighters.

He had been vigilant in warding off infections, treating them immediately before they had a chance to threaten his health. For over 10 years, he had done so successfully. But by the fall of 1978, his white blood count had dropped to the point that his immune system was severely compromised.

He didn't let on to my sister or myself that he was concerned about his health. I found out later that for intervals of time, the only thing he could eat were soft-boiled eggs, because his throat was so sore. He never stopped working.

During Christmas 1978, my fiancée, my father and I joined my sister and her family in Dallas for Christmas. He seemed fine.

I visited with him the week after New Years in Milford. One day, as I was coming downstairs, He was talking on the phone and I heard him mention the word "leukemia."

I asked him about it and he told me he was having some problems with his throat, but that it was nothing to worry about. He was having tests taken and his doctors assured him they hadn't discovered anything to be alarmed about.

When I spoke to him seven weeks later at the end of February, I could hear pain in his voice. He had said nothing to me in the interim to cause me to worry about his condition. He assured me he was treating his condition, and there was nothing to be alarmed about.

He had always been extremely active, seemingly indestructible. Perhaps, I didn't want to believe otherwise. When I told him I loved him, I heard him whimper. I realized later he must have gulped when I said that, and it hurt his throat.

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