Eugene B. McCabe

I loved my Dad. I can remember being with him when I was a young boy, eating soft big pretzels in Philly and watching boats. I remember him taking me on work related trips, I remember going into the fields of Western PA to pick wild blackberries with him and my younger sister. I remember my time with him as a teenager, I remember his pride when my school grades picked up and when I graduated from college and later, from Grad school. He loved his work and he enjoyed life as best he could,...