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Until I was six years old I didn’t realize what it was that my father did for a living. The news was broken to me by a playmate at school.

That night, when Dad came home from work and flopped into his easy chair, I approached him with awe. Then doubt crept in. He didn’t look famous to me, he just looked tired.

So I asked a crucial question. “Daddy, are you Walt Disney?”

“Yes, honey,” he replied.

“I mean, are you the Walt Disney?"

He nodded. So it was true!

“Daddy,” I said, “please give me your autograph."

That scene was played many years ago, but my father still recalls it with enjoyment.
[…]

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