There was a large antipasto platter and fruit on the table. Mom and I were sitting beside our men. Dad sliced off the heels from the bread and put the... on Patrick’s plate.....the first seed of the plowed field and Patrick gave one back to Dad, nodding in acknowledgement. My father’s gesture of respect was solemnly accepted and returned and both Mom and I wiped a tear from our eyes. I first shared the story of the tradition of bread with my Blue Knight while we were sitting at the farm on the. I was walking downstairs, my bag in hand, when the doorbell rang. Joe ran across the foyer and opened the door."We'll be out in two minutes."Outside, I could see a cab, engine running and lights on, and the trunk open. Joe went back to the kitchen and returned moments later with two containers of coffee. He handed me one, picked up his bag, which was by the door, and headed outside with me hot on his heels.As we traveled towards LA, Joe, in between sips of his coffee said,"MaryAnn told me last. More

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