my dad
I have never met a man I have loved, admired and respected as much as Marty Littman,
and I am so very proud to have
been his son.
He survived so many things in his youth - The Bataan Death March (from which he
escaped), three and a half years in a Manchurian prisoner of war work camp,
Philadelphia (the worst of the three he would say on occasion) - and as he got
older, shook off some major health problems (heart attack, cancer, etc.) all
with such ease that we had come to expect that he was going to live forever.
But in May of 2001 we were all forced to face a sad truth.
He fell ill and instead of recovering (although he tried) we watched him as he
slowly got
sicker and weaker.
During this period he spent hours recording his entire life story and afterwards
leaving personal messages for each of us in the immediate family.
And on the morning of Friday, June 1st, with all of us by his side, he left us.
His funeral was that Sunday and was so crowded that not only was
every seat filled in that chapel,
but there were people lining the walls while others were forced to
listen to the service from
outside the doors.
He was loved by all who met him.
And although I cried a lot during those last three weeks of his life,
after watching him go the tears
for my father for the most part went with him,
and I knew at that moment why I was left behind;
I am Marty's son and I am here to honor him in all I do.
Meeting him was the greatest thing that ever happened to me;
while saying "good-bye" was by far the worst...
But I am so lucky to have known him at all.
I love you Dad.
-Sandey Grinn, 2008