HAPPY BIRTHDAY IRAQ WAR Four years ago I was sitting in a hospital in Utica, New York talking with doctors and nurses about my father, of blessed memory. He'd flipped his SUV on black ice while running an errand from the assisted living facility where he'd moved just months before. Dad was doing well. Making new friends and being the gregarious, compassionate and wonderful man I knew he was. He was still depressed over the death of our mother just a few years prior; she was his whole world. But he was starting to move on with his life. He was a doting grandfather and the kind of friend you meet once in a lifetime. Dad didn't tell anyone what had really happened to the car. My brother found out later when he went to the shop where it had been towed. Dad walked away from the accident with what he thought was a 'bump on the head.' It was profound brain injury. A couple days later he didn't show up for dinner at the facility and was found on the floor of hi...