Father, your remarkable ability to defy fate, your boundless love for truth, justice, “the least of us among us,” and your unwavering faith, has led me to believe, now, more than ever, that, had you not crossed paths with the tragic fate that awaited you on that September 27, 1965 Air America flight, the event that led to your death being shrouded in secrecy by the CIA, you would have returned to us, living out a long, joyful life with our mother and your children. Your spirit, undaunted by injustice, remains committed to setting things right. As Dan Sullivan, author and friend, so eloquently expressed—and as I quoted in my investigative memoir—”There’s a mystic quality to how your dad’s letters affected you, as if the connection you felt to them was because he was thinking of your mother and of who killed him when he died. His spirit at that moment refused to let those thoughts die with him. His blessing for you was in providing something that would help complete your life.”
Happy Father’s Day, Dad.
James B. Wells 