I’m not sure which was more important — his rebellious spirit or his magnanimous dreams — but both served my father well in his middle-class struggle to shed the poverty of his youth. Even before the money and the means materialized, with a debonair indifference known only to the upper crust, he marched past the racial and social limitations of 20th-century America and, often with his wife and kids in tow, pursued a life typically reserved for those of a different caliber.
Before long, Manhattan’s esteemed theater district and Boston’s seafood circuit, Florida’s sunniest beaches and California’s coastal living, Europe’s fine dining and the African-infused cultures of the Caribbean Islands became his playground. And, it was in this context that we first experienced the world. It was here that we learned the value of the frequent flier miles and hotel points – remnants from his career in sales – which fueled our family adventures.