How Dad Got His Shoes to Fit, and What I Learned

My father was a MacGyver before there was MacGyver. He had a knack for twiddling solutions to stupid problems, like getting a crooked door to swing straight. Born in 1916 near Atlanta, Georgia, he’d been “raised right.” He respected his mother, took care of his wife and family and knew everything he needed to know about building a house. Nearly everything he owned The got a taste of his ingenuity – either something he’d learned in his younger years or knowledge acquired through his voracious...