Flying Heart Records

My Dad was an accomplished pianist, in addition to being a decorated Polish WWII hero and a forty-year veteran editor for the Polish Desk at Radio Free Europe. Shown on the left at his impressively cluttered desk, and on the right on a Hungarian passport made out to Andor Varga in August of 1942.
He could whip out a bunch of Chopin piano pieces on our home upright, without even cracking his knuckles or warming up, and nail them flawlessly. This often happened on Sunday mornings, before or after we went to the Polish church.
He died twenty-five tears ago today, aged 84.