Both of my parents held MAs in History, and both taught at the high school level for a number of years. It's not surprising that I inherited a love of history from them, especially since they both had such a strong passion for their chosen field.
My father in particular had a special interest in East Asian history, sparked by his service as a Marine in WWII. Before I came along, my parents traveled throughout Asia together, and he got to reconcile what he had learned in the 30 years since returning from the Pacific Theater with the sights of the continent.
His readings and first-hand experiences culminated in a trip to Taiwan, when he came upon a statue of Chiang Kai-shek, hero of Nationalist China. Now, my father was hardly a communist, but believed Chiang to be a thief. As such, he marched up to the statue in the middle of the square, looked up at it, and exclaimed, "All right, you son of a bitch, where'd you hide the money?!?"
My mother always expressed amazement that they left Taiwan in one piece.
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