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I miss him. He was a very interesting man, fun to be with, larger than life. In the year between when my grandmother died and he died, he would call me every Thursday night at 8:00 p.m. Even now, all these years later, when my phone rings on a Thursday night, I think it's him. He had a very loud voice and never did quite figure out the purpose of an answering machine; if he had to leave me a message it was always a bellowed "Call Grandfather!" followed by the phone crashing down. We always suggested that instead of using the phone he should just open the window and yell.
His family had a shipyard on the Detroit River for many years; they made Victory Ships in WWWI. My grandfather loved boats all his life and kept one on the river all the years he lived in Detroit. He visited Alaska with his boy scout troop in the 1920s and drove across the country with his mother in Model A Ford -- from Detroit to San Francisco -- when he was only 14. His parents gave him the Model A for his fourteenth birthday but his mother wouldn't buy him roller skates because she thought they were dangerous. Interestingly, though, she bought roller skates for every other kid on the block.
He built furniture as a hobby and made my parents' dining room table and a teacart for me that I treasure. Whenever he made a piece of furniture, he'd make a miniature piece to keep. His own taste was for 1930s and 40s Art Deco and had a dining room table custom made from windshield glass; it sat fourteen and weighed 800 pounds. He was always the first to get the latest gadget and bought a color TV, dishwasher, microwave, trash compactor, and convection oven before all the bugs were quite worked out so they never worked exactly the way they were supposed to which made using them very exciting. He built a revolving stage for the Civic Theatre so they just had to turn it to the right set. He looked just like Teddy Roosevelt and played the TR character very convincingly in a Civic Theatre Production of Arsenic and Old Lace. His favorite drink was whiskey and water but he always drank beer on Sundays at the Stagecoach Inn in Marshall, MI. I often joined him in his later years. A big round table he built is still in the back corner of the bar.
Happy Birthday, Grandfather. I miss you and will love you forever.
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