Sixty-two years ago today my grandparents were married. You can see the happy couple above in this picture from their wedding banquet; they're at the head of the table (click on the picture to see a larger version). They're both in their 80's now, and are still happily married. I gave them a call today, and my grandmother joked about all the big numbers she has to rattle off whenever she's asked her age or how long she's been married.
My grandfather served in the Navy during WWII and worked as an engineer afterwards; my grandmother held a manufacturing job before meeting him but then stayed home to raise their three kids, with the first born during the war. They've both got neat stories to tell (like the one with my grandmother coming home to find my dad boiling a greasy car radiator thermostat in one of her good pots), and I'm grateful that I know them.
When I look at the picture above I've always been intrigued by this man, sitting on the left side of the table:
His look in this picture has fascinated me, yet I know nothing about him other than that he was at this dinner. Who was he? What happened to him?
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