Both my Granddads were farmers Paternal GD died while he was still on the farm when I was around 8. All I remember of him was that he was usually working and the hard work was done with his pair of horses.

My other Granddad left the farm before WWII and had a bar/restaurant/gas and auto repair business until the war was nearly over. He sold that business and became a night watchman at a gasket factory outside Detroit.

He was the sportsman in the family. We hunted and fished together whenever we could and he was the one who encouraged me to begin shooting while I was fairly young. I didn't know much about age requirements or hunting licenses and seasons back then but that didn't slow me down. If I had enough $$ to buy a box of .22's, S, L or LR, I was in hog heaven. There was a good sized family dump in the rocks behind their house, where, with today's prices, I probably destroyed a small fortune in antique glass, Prince Albert cans and other such memorabilia.

He died when I was around 12 and from then on I was on my own. I missed him a ton while growing up and took over his job, shepherding my younger brothers on up into their teens.

He was a man I really admired.

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