The story begins

Buried deep in the storehouse of our sub conscious are precious keep sakes and timeless treasures. These are memories of a time and portraits from a place we call yesterday. Occasionally, if only for a while something beckons us there again. Longfellow said, "our todays and yesterdays are the blocks upon which we build." Among the building blocks of my yesterdays are memories of a man I loved who never called me by my name.

I am certain he never called me by my name because I was not named after him. Had my mom followed a family tradition I would have been Benjamian Franklin Dockery the fifth. Upon hearing I was to be named Cameron Garrett Dockery he offered a response that was purely mechanical. "Um...a cam is and off centered wheel. We can't do that do the boy."

My father had spent enough time in Spain while serving in the Air Force to learn a baby boy in that culture is called a Bam Bi'no. The latter part stuck and presented a solution to the problem at hand. Pa would not refer to his first grandson as an off centered wheel. He would call me bi'no.

He was known by a few names. His wife of 54 years and childhood sweet heart called him Frank. Co-workers called him Doc. He was my grandfather, I called him Pa and this is his story.