The changes came slowly

Well, here I go. I think that we all have some crazy things happen to us as young people. but why on earth would my father ask such a question. I was 12 years old, 1969, a brother in the war, and my dad worried to death, literally! He watched Walter Cronkite 's death toll every night. It was stressing him out. What triggered the "changing my name was the next chain of events.
It was over getting hurt at work, smashing his fingers, safety violation. His English was terrible, he was fired.
He came home, his first son off to Vietnam, no friends, neighbors moved out, 4 daughters, and he had enough. ( he thought).
He cornered me, and said to make in this country, you need to can change your name, I just looked at him and said " no". I liked my name, you and mom gave it to me, and I am o.k..
It was the first time I saw the race card. I did not like it either. That's not what you have been teaching this whole family. Of course I was saying that to myself.
All the hard work he had accomplished payed off. He was given his job back one week later.
He had went to a trade school and could weld anything. During the mid 50's he went to school at night and worked by day. The company and the union came to a resolution and his personal spoke for it self. That was the oddest week at 12, that I can remember for now. so I will write tomorrow!!