recollections of him losing his patience with me. He was kind, loving, thoughtful, and soft spoken. But one night, I think I was 15, I was beckoned to family prayer by my Mom. For whatever reason, I refused and she followed that up with various threats (i.e., "consequences"). I followed her to family prayer, but I was muttering nasty things about her all the way. My Dad was waiting with my siblings in our family room, so he only heard two or three of my utterances, but he launched himself across that room faster than I've ever seen him move. He somehow pinned me on my back faster than I could react. As he pinned me against the floor he snarled, "Don't ever talk about my wife that way again." He stared me down, didn't say another word, and after a moment lifted my quivering body to my knees for family prayer. Message delivered.