During the period of time we were under quarantine from the Covid epidemic, I spent much of my time in the studio painting. At one point, I made a decision to write a book about my father. I realize that everybody has had a father. Some are good fathers, some are not. I wrote from a son‘s perspective about this man’s incredibly interesting life. The fact that he made mine interesting by giving me understanding and opportunities is secondary to the fact that this man lived the true rags to riches story. Coming from a poor family of four siblings, he entered the military before the beginning of World War II, and subsequently becoming a prisoner of war in the very camp depicted in “The Great Escape”. After the war, he received his degree from the University of Pennsylvania with the plan to study law, and he entered the Wharton School. Needing to support a wife and child and a love of the racetrack, he took a summer job as a traveling salesman, and during this time wrote down many of his recollections from his two years as a prisoner of war. Eventually, he put his writings aside and concentrated on business. After his death, I found the writings that he had done while he was a traveling salesman. I knew many of the stories, but reading his words years after his passing, I could hear his voice, because he wrote as he spoke. They are part of the book as well. He was a keenly, intelligent individual with a vocabulary that defied most people. Eventually, his business became successful and he branched out into his other interest in life which was horse racing. He began to race and breed thoroughbred racehorses and had some outstanding successful horses between 1965 and 2013. The people he met, the people he knew, the people that just heard about him were all fascinated with this man. Everybody seemed to love him. Animals such as dogs and cats were drawn to him like a magnet. Vicious dogs that bit everybody including their owners eagerly ran to this man to be petted. His magnetism was so strong that, while a prisoner of war, he was befriended by a German guard even though my father was Jewish. This guard and my father became friends, and the man always made sure my father got extra food and his clothes were clean and mended a great risk to the guard's wife and daughter. Eventually during my father‘s imprisonment, the guard had twin sons and named one after himself, and the other after my father. When the war ended, my father sent this man money and clothing to get him back on his feet. In 1965 while I was studying in Austria, I looked him up, and although he could not see me, he arranged for me to meet his son Max, who was my father‘s name sake. This man, named after my father, became a great friend of mine, and I have been a friend of his since 1965. Eventually, he became a doctor, and at one point saved my life. It’s a wonderful story about kindness and goodness, and how it all comes back to those that give it.