At last, the story can be told!February 11 marks the 15th anniversary of my father’s fatal heart attack. Time has erased much of the sting, but every day I find myself blurting out one Dad phrase or another (such as “There’s no such thing as a simple job” or “Hubba hubba, man - let’s hubba hubba”). As Paul Overstreet sang, “I’m beginning to see my father in me.”Edwin Lewis Tyree (1925-2000) lives on in my writing and in the grandson he never knew.