My mother, Lillian Dunn, turned eighty yesterday. I salute her tenacity: Raising me after the tragic death of my father in a plane crash in 1968, putting me through college, always encouraging my work, always offering help--even though my calling was not always understandable to her. A strong Italian American, she left New York to sojourn to the frontier of Anchorage, Alaska in 1955 with a tall, imposing Dutchman, Harold Fred Groothuis. Now with health problems galore, she soldiers on, never giving up, trying to remain cheerful. I love you Mom! You are always in my prayers.