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From America’s Premier Editorial Cartoonist

Biden family embarrassment—Michael

Inside the Laptop —Scott Johnson, Power Line

Accountability Thy Name Isn’t Biden —Las Vegas Review-Journal

A note from Melissa:

I hope all the fathers out there enjoy a day filled with love and gratitude. My father was raised by his parents, Lithuanian immigrants during World War II in Detroit. When he was 14, they bought a farm, and he met my mother at the rural school he attended. He was drafted during the Korean War and tested into the Marines, but after basic training, my grandfather had a stroke, and my dad was honorably discharged to take care of the family farm. He married my mom, and I was one of 6 kids born as my father worked his way up in business during the 60s, first in the factory, then as a salesman, then finally as a real estate developer. He loved us fiercely and encouraged us to be fearless in the pursuit of our dreams. I’m so grateful to him. My sweet mother, who is now 90, told me that the military had promised to send him to engineering school, but my dad, who always looked at the bright side of everything, never mentioned regrets for missing a college education or enduring the inevitable struggles of a self-employed businessman. He died at 54 of kidney cancer, and though I think of him always, I try to share each year on Father’s Day how much I miss him. We would love to hear your father’s special story, so please share in the comments.

My dad, circa 1944
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