"My dad is something else, I thought." – Claudia Williams, "Ted Williams, My Father," HarperCollins 2014

TED WILLIAMS WAS 53 when Claudia was born. She writes:

"FROM THE BEGINNING of my life, I knew Ted Williams as my father first and as a fisherman second . . I only vaguely knew he had played baseball . . On September 28, 1960, he stood at home plate for the last time . . I saw my father in a baseball uniform for the first and only time 22 years later at an Old-Timers' Game in Fenway Park . . I didn't have a clue as to what I was about to experience.

"From where I sat, it was almost as exciting that my brother was on the field as an honorary bat boy . . I knew I was going to see my dad at any moment . . Finally, the announcer started highlighting a player whose career had big numbers, records that still stood, and how he had served two hitches in the Marines. The crowd came alive. The cheers were so loud that I could feel the whole stadium vibrate. I couldn't even see my dad because everyone was standing up. It was then that my mom said, 'That's Daddy' . .

"My mom reached down to pick me up and hold me above her shoulders. My dad is something else, I thought."

Who wouldn't love to have a father like that? Or even a brother? You CAN have. Both!

I DON'T KNOW THE DAY OR THE HOUR, but you could soon have an experience greater than the one Claudia experienced. Stadiums won't be the only thing shaken. Mountains will shake and crumble. The announcer will be a trumpet blast. The crowd will number at least 144,000, with another throng that cannot be numbered. Angels and saints will sing a song that only they will be able to sing. Tears of joy will be shed.

ALL WARS WILL COME TO AN END.