On this wintry December night in 1893, Millie had lots of time to think. His wife, Mina, was with child; and tonight, looked like the baby would arrive. His first child was a girl named Blanche, who was four years old. He was truly hoping for a boy, even knowing that Mina and Blanche both wanted a girl. Millie had thought back to the time when he and his family came to Michigan from Canada in the late 1870s. He reminisced about events and adventures this move had brought. He loved life on the farm. To him it was a very rewarding life. He hoped to be able to pass this passion he had for farming on to a son. He had dreamed of being married and having children. He remembered how his pa and ma favored his sister over him and his brother. He never wanted to do that to his children when he had them. He thought how nice it would be to have a son to carry on the family name. A son to help on the farm and eventually inherit it. A son would just make him feel complete as a man. Then came the words. “It’s a boy!” Millie heaved a heavy sigh. A son! He couldn’t wait to see him. He would call him Rate to honor his dad. Now he could look forward to this new chapter in his life. Only time would tell how this chapter would unfold.