The Man I Didn't Know narrates my discovery of a father unknown to me. To be sure, I thought that I knew my father. Although my parents were divorced and I lived with my mother, I spent all day Saturdays with him for 11 formative years, from ages 8 to 18. And I continued to communicate with him by weekly letters and occasional visits for another ten years until his death. He was a good father: attentive and loving. But, then, 32 years after his...