My Grandpa, by Charles Christian & John Dallas Hancock

John

Charles

We both remember grandpa always being so collected, very warm, kind and loving. I have many memories of grandpa, not one of them is a bad one. I never saw my grandfather swear, or lose his temper. This man is the kind that all young men aspire to be like when they grow up. I thought it would be a good way to keep spirits high to summarize a few memories I have of my grandpa.

    Trail Bike.    Grandpa and I would go to the cabin often for a week at a time. We would bring a trail bike grandpa had lying around the shop. The bike broke down at one point and would not start. Grandpa was a great mechanic; I knew he could walk me through getting it to run. He told me to hold the spark plug in and kick it over. It was a shocking experience to say the least.

    Guitar.    I remember sitting upstairs in the cabin grandpa built and listening to him play the guitar. I found it so interesting at the time. I was just a little boy, but grandpa seemed to play pretty well. I started taking guitar lessons and played, “Grandpa tell me bout the good old days” at the family reunion one year. To this day I enjoy listening to that song it really makes me think about, “The good old days”.

    My Grandpa is stronger than yours.     Grandpa had a backhoe that he kept at the cabin. He used to ride us around in the scoop. He even let us steer it when we were just little. I remember one day for some reason grandpa had to remove the smaller scoop from the backhoe he picked the thing up and carried it into the garage. To this day I have never weighed a scoop but I’d rather just keep the memory that my grandpa is stronger than yours.

    One dollar.    I would hang around grandpa’s shop all the time growing up. I must have been about five years old when I thought I could use some extra cash. I approached grandpa to ask him what I could do. He said I could clean the side of the shop for ten dollars an hour. The side of the shop looked like a forest that had multiple plain wrecks in it at this point. I remember cleaning for what seemed to be forever. I went to grab grandpa to show him what I had accomplished. Grandpa did a little math in his head and came to the conclusion that I earned one dollar. I remember thinking I got the short end of the stick. But I’m pretty sure grandpa did the math right. Besides what I learned around the shop was worth far more than that one dollar.

Charles Christian & John Dallas Hancock

07/31/10