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As the [u]alcoholism[/u] progressed, Al began to lose everything he possessed — his home, his land, his art objects, everything. Eventually Al died alone in a San Francisco [u]motel[/u] room.
When I heard of Al's death, I reacted with the same [u]disdain[/u] the world shows for one who ends his life with nothing material to show for it. "What a complete failure!" I thought. "What a totally wasted life"
As time went by, I began to re-evaluate my earlier harsh judgment. You see, I knew Al's now adult son, Ernie. He is one of the kindest, most caring, most loving men I have ever known. I watched Ernie with his children and saw the free flow of love between them. I knew that kindness and caring had to come from somewhere.