. . . a few moments after Harry was born.  I had just snipped off his umbilical cord with surgical scissors.  (It seemed to have the texture of lightly boiled calamari.)

Harry's dad Rich had been working in a distant city when Harry decided to make his appearance.  Rich jumped on a plane and would have arrived in plenty of time for the birth if his flight hadn't gotten delayed at a stopover en route.  So I had to pinch hit as delivery room companion for my sister Lee.  I quickly realized that my biggest duty was not to faint.  Things were harrowing at times but the conclusion was exhilarating.

There is no other experience quite like holding a newly-born baby in your arms.

Harry turned 18 this summer.

We are still friends.