Dedications

This site is dedicated to my father and to my brother, who passed away but will never be forgotten. My dad Albert Lee Seebach was and always will be my hero. I am so proud to be his daughter. He gave me the intestinal fortitude to fight for my own life under the most difficult circumstances.

My brother Laurence Frederick Seebach was made of pretty tuff stuff too, so it must run in our blood I guess. All I know is that I loved them more than I can express and owe my very life to them.

They were always there to lend an ear and a hand-up, not a hand out. They were proud men who never wavered in family love and loyalty, and they commanded respect. And yes sir, they received it from all who really knew them.

Dad was a Drill Sergeant in the United States Army Air Corps. It was called that back then. He was stationed in New Guinea, Austraila where he contracted Malaria and "jungle rot" on his feet from wearing out the very soles on his shoes. He lined his shoes with paper and cardboard (if lucky enough to find either), because our own government couldn't provide him with a new pair of shoes. I know it doesn't sound so bad unless you are the one living with that condition.

War is Hell! I do not believe anyone who goes there and is lucky enough to come home should be expected to be the same person they left. Our very own Salvation Army wouldn't give away a pair shoes in those days. So what do you suppose my dad did when he got back home? He took his wife Mary Catherine - "his tall brown eyed doll" - and 1st born son and built a house on a creek in knobbs of Indiana with his own bare hands!! Totally a selfmade man.

Then when the Indiana winters made my mother ill with phneumonia, he did anything he could to bring her and their three children to a warmer Florida climate. Never forgetting those miserable days in the jungles of New Gunea and how helpless he was to just get a pair of shoes for his "bloody" feet, he moved into the shoe repair business. He bought the finest leather chairs, hired a shoeshine boy off the street and offered him a partnership in the business. It was a fine shop where anyone on Las Olas Boulevard would be treated like royalty with southern hospitality. My dad never could stand to see injustice in the world. He thought everyone should be treated equally long before it became fashionable. My Dad: Now there was a man!