February 14, 1911 – March, 1982 My grandfather was a man of few words. With a memory as good as mine, there are only a few conversations that I remember having directly with him. Most of our conversations happened when he and Grandma K. were together and it was usually Grandma K. that did all…
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My grandmother was a devout Evangelical Lutheran, as Christian as a grandmother could be. So it always befuddled me when she said she was going to kill me. ‘I’m going to kill you!’ is one of those statements that I couldn’t imagine saying now to anyone, but when I was a kid, it was used…
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There was a cup of hot steaming cocoa sitting on Grandma’s dining table waiting for me. Just like every morning when I was dropped off before the school bus came, or maybe I stayed over at her house the night before. There was also a stack of buttered toast sitting on a plate on the…
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I stood outside my Grandmother’s house in the yard. It was one of those western Pennsylvania days of eternal grey, when after the sun rose somewhere on the other side of the cloud layer, one hour looked just like the next until suddenly it would be dark again. Standing out in the yard, where I…
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