I’d meet Dad in Downtown Pittsburgh for lunch and he’d be standing there under the tall arches formed by the girders of the U.S. Steel Tower Plaza, framed by the beautiful rusty patina of that CorTen Steel. He’d be grinning and dapper in his suit, the U.S. Steel civil engineer meeting one of his many kids, and he’d throw an arm around my shoulder for a bit as we walked across Grant Street and down the brick alley called Cherry Way, to Weiner World (“Home of the Cheese Dog”) or somewhere nicer. Didn’t matter.
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