On the 14th July 1951 the biggest hugest massivest humungousest stroke of luck to befall him in all his life befell Pieter Gerhardus Swanepoel. By far. By a very long, long way the biggest.
And he didn’t realise it then. Still doesn’t now.
This morning Mary will wake thinking, I wonder how Pieter is, I hope he’s alright.
Happy 70th wedding anniversary, Mom n Dad.
~~oo0oo~~