I found my father's medal at a thrift store for 75 cents.
It was from the 1972 State Industrial Arts Conference. His name was scratched on the back in a shaky hand.
He was the shop teacher at the high school. I never could make a birdhouse without him sighing and walking away.
The name tent card from the same conference was tucked in the box. It said "R.L. Hansen, Presenter."
I didn't know he presented. He never told me anything about his life before I was born.
After thirty years at the mill, I know good brass when I see it. I bought the medal on impulse.
I'm saving for a wedding now, at sixty-four. My fiancé said to bring the medal to the ceremony. She said it belongs there.
I rubbed the tarnish off with my thumb. I thought about all the kids he taught who probably got his best self.