My Grandpa was tall and skinny, he had completely white hair with a white handlebar mustache, both had a tint of yellow due to smoking. He had sky blue eyes, my brother may have gotten his eyes from him. At least that is what I like to think. He had a big nose with a pretty big hook to it and big ears. He always had darker arms, face, and neck, almost with a red hue. My grandpa had false teeth on the top and only three of his own teeth left on the bottom. He said he didn’t want to wear his teeth on the bottom because they hurt too much. I only have seen my Grandpa crack a smile a couple of times while growing up. He did look mean. He would be cordial to people but never go out of his way to say hello to anyone. But to me, he was a good man. He was the best man, and only Father I knew.
What people didn’t know was behind the rough exterior he was a very kind man that got a kick out of goofy things and didn’t mind having me around. I think my Grandpa kept an eye on me and made sure I was going to turn out “OK” because I looked just like my Mom and to my Grandpa, her daughter was going to make it. That is what I believe anyway.
I would tag around outside with my Grandpa when I was done with doing my chores in the house on the weekends and most of the summer if I was not playing in the river, fishing, climbing trees, or playing with the kids across the road or my friend Kristy who lived about a mile away. I would play out in the by the barn and sometimes during the fall, I would help stack wood. My Grandpa would have me hold out my arms and he would stack some wood in my arms. He would remind me of the “right way” of stacking wood.
My Grandpa was a minor league baseball player in Alpena when they had a minor league team. He was left-handed, batted right-handed, and played first base. He loved baseball, he loved watching baseball even when the Tigers couldn’t get a hit.
