Until I was six years old I didn’t realize what it was that my father did for a living. The news was broken to me by a playmate at school.
That night, when Dad came home from work and flopped into his easy chair, I approached him with awe. Then doubt crept in. He didn’t look famous to me, he just looked tired.
So I asked a crucial question. “Daddy, are you Walt Disney?”
“Yes, honey,” he replied.
“I mean, are you the Walt Disney?"
He nodded. So it was true!
“Daddy,” I said, “please give me your autograph."
That scene was played many years ago, but my father still recalls it with enjoyment.
[…]
