Their dad was a multi-talented man who had several successful careers, ultimately rising to 2-star (or maybe 3-star?) General and head of the Pennsylvania Air National Guard. His name was Bob Harris, and they just don't make dads this cool anymore.
Until an epic battle with cancer made him too weak, he still made physicals and kept up all his flying certifications, even though he had tremendous administrative, military, and publicity duties. On summer Thursday afternoons, when he knew his kids were playing with us at our mountain pond in Pennsylvania, he would buzz our house in a giant, C-130 Hercules military transport aircraft. Alas, cancer took his life too early, but he lived more in five decades than a dozen ordinary men could in eight.
In case you think I am kidding about the giant brass balls on these aviators, enjoy this demonstration.
When he buzzed our pond in the summer, I crapped just a little. Also, he would wag the wings for us and spiral in towards us at high bank angles.
Once a year, he would get us "general's seats" for the Blue Angels jet show. This consisted of an aluminum bleacher, setup 300ft from the runway on the open Tarmac. This definitely caused brain damage.
Oh, and he used to have a magic show on TV before he became a general. Just for giggles, he was a tournament level bridge player and a filthy comedian.
Teensy bit cooler? Or is it just me?