Grandfathers.............

[Uncut Degenerate]

This was very hard to read and even harder to post, I'm welling up as I type this.

My dad's father came over via Brasero program. He established two businesses (a post tension company and a restaurant) that served as the backbone for that side of the family. My father and his brother still run the post tension company today. When I was a kid, he would always take me over the border to Juarez, we would visit the mercados and even caught a few bull fights. He passed away when I was in high school.

My mother's father is a lot harder to write about. I went to pre school and grade school around them so I spent a lot of time over there after school. He had a really special bond with my brother and him both being diabetics, he was my brother's best friend. When he died a piece of my brother went with him and sadly I don't think he's ever been the same since. My grandmother (is wife) is my last living grandparent, I don't know what I'm going to do when that day comes. My brother keeps this picture in his room.

 

[Ketchum]

Bump (cause I LOVE all these stories!).

They point to a simpler time!

+1

 

[Vincent Laguardia Gambini]

Love this thread. Appreciate all the posts here. Allowed me to think about some really cool memories of my granddad.

Some great stories shared here. Thanks again for all the posts.

 

[Pap-a-lap]

Both my grandfathers were 20+ years older than my grandmothers, so I never met either of them, but my dad told me a good bit about his father, who was born in the Tennessee hills, and was kicked in the jaw by a mule as young boy, disjointing his jawbone and locking his jaw so he could he could only take liquid nourishment for more than a year. A circuit-riding doctor took him to a medical convention, where the consensus was to cut out his lower mandible (chin bone), which they did, leaving him with limited chewing power, so his food (especially meat) always had to be finely sliced. My dad remembers him always having a jug of whiskey beside his bed and taking a pull on it every morning "to help his digestion".

My great-grandparents split the sheets a couple years later, and my great grandmother brought my granddad on the train to Texas, where she married a German immigrant rancher and bore him a son. My granddad didn't get along with his stepfather, and left home in his early teens to work as a cowboy for an old man who, as a boy, had been the only survivor of an aborted rustling party into Mexico, and had driven cattle up the trail in the 1870's. Still a young man when his stepfather passed away, granddad began raising his own cattle on a small piece of inherited land, clearing pasture and digging stock tanks with mule-drawn implements, and buying adjacent property (where I now live) as he was able. Almost 40 when he married, he and my granny raised six children, my dad being the youngest.

To supplement his income, granddad drove a mule-drawn wagon into Austin to supply the local general store, the round trip taking him all of two days to complete. I remember my oldest aunt saying that she and her mama and sisters, sitting on the front porch on a warm evening, could hear granddad coming up the road, singing to his mules.

 

[PBR_StreetGang]

Mom's dad was a fighter pilot ace in the Pacific in WWII. Flew F6F Hellcats off the Yorktown and Hornet. Won the distinguished flying cross, among other awards. Dad's dad was a lifelong employee with the Army Air Corps (now USAF) research lab at what used to be called Carswell (now NAS-JRB Forth Worth). Both good Texas men.

 

[orange turdfrog]

I've been told this thread will end up in the classics

 

[Dal_Horn]

My mom's Dad died when I was 6 years old so I don't have many memories. My Dad's dad was an alcoholic POS. So, a man across the street when we moved into a new house took my training wheels off. He then morphed into essentially my grandfather and his wife my grandmother. They were at every major event in my life from elementary graduation to my wedding. He died 2 months after my Dad. I lost the 2 most significant men in my life within 2 months of each other, both unexpected. But, they taught me how to be man, husband, dad and man of faith. Good job Papa John (and Dad)!

 

[I Hear Voices]

My mom's Dad died when I was 6 years old so I don't have many memories. My Dad's dad was an alcoholic POS. So, a man across the street when we moved into a new house took my training wheels off. He then morphed into essentially my grandfather and his wife my grandmother. They were at every major event in my life from elementary graduation to my wedding. He died 2 months after my Dad. I lost the 2 most significant men in my life within 2 months of each other, both unexpected. But, they taught me how to be man, husband, dad and man of faith. Good job Papa John (and Dad)!

Wow. What a story that was. Thank you for sharing.

 

[dkr982002]

My dad's dad died of a heart attack in a sales meeting when I was 2. So I never knew him. My mom's dad was an awesome guy. I miss him every day. I know he was kind of rowdy in his youth, but settled down in Abilene and owned a full sevice gas station (remember those?). I used to "help" him, but mostly drank free sodas out of the machine. He worked long hours. I remember helping him count the money at the end of the day. A couple of hundred bucks seemed like a million dollars to me. He died of lung cancer when I was at UT. Watching him wither away due to the disease was tough. Thank you for this thread. Good memories. Can't wait to see him again one day

 

[drunk randoke]

What a thread.

I had a cool moment recently. I was talking country music with my dad. I told him my favorite singer was Marty Robbins. He said that's a coicincidence because that was your papa's favorite singer. I remember riding in his truck and listening to music and him singing but I do not recall Marty Robbins. I think subconsciously I must have picked it up though.

 

[dentonhorn]

Papa was born in 1896, a little older than a lot of y'all grandpas. Glad I got to know him. Carpenter and farmer by trade. Simpler times, he played the fiddle and for weekend entertainment they had friends over and all played blue grass on the porch. A tad grumpy, in a lovable way. I inherited that.