They Laughed at My Father – But They Never Really Knew Him
I found myself standing in the middle of a lavish New York ballroom, wearing a tuxedo that cost more than my old Chevy, feeling like an imposter at my own wedding. My name is Brian Miller, a warehouse worker from Queens, and tonight I was marrying Emily Harrington, whose last name could open any door on the Upper East Side. But as the laughter and whispers about my father echoed through the marble halls, I realized no one here truly understood the man who raised me.