On the day before Christmas, Kenny Kemp raised his father's heavy garage door and began cleaning out what his dad had spent 40 years filling up. It was four months after his father's untimely death from Lou Gehrig's Disease, a painful, troubled time in which no answers were forthcoming. Why him? Why now? Why, God?
But as Kenny worked, the answers slowly came, carefully preserved in mayonnaise jars full of straightened nails; hidden in overstuffed workbench drawers; secreted in the worn tool collection; and waiting patiently in a 30-year-old piece of green plywood--precious relics which spoke in silent eloquence of the greatness of a man who never knew he was. [from author/publisher web site]