Good idea my friend.
I love my dad. I miss him, being about 1600 miles away almost all the time. I'm going to be seeing him (and the whole clan) in a few weeks, and I'm looking forward to it.
I'm really proud of him. He had a mainly black church in innercity Philly when I was young, and he did a lot for the neighborhood and for the civil rights cause in general. I felt how people admired and had trust in him, even when I was six or seven. He was among the 45 from whom LBJ selected 15 for his "Whitehouse Fellowship" in 1966. And when the Peace Corps contacted him he took us off to Ethiopia, and then Swaziland, with the love of God and man in his heart and he did a lot. And then he settled into a small town ministership and did a lot to move that small town into a conception of a larger world, and for the elederly and less fortunate in the whole area. Again I felt the admiration and trust directed his way from so many.
And in the midst of all this he managed to write four excellent biographies!
It was hard then to be in his shadow; I felt for a long time that my name was actually "Comma Lon" because I always seemed to be introduced as "Rev. Armstrong's son COMMA Lon." I had to move far away to really be me and not first his son. But I learned not to hold that against HIM, and I love him dearly.