Within the last few months, we’ve had to clean out my late grandparents’ home. Eighteen years after my grandfather died and 10 years after my grandmother left us, the family was finally able to settle everything and sell the home, the home in which they lived for more than half a century.
Attached to this home was a tiny garage dubbed “the shop.” It was in this shop that my grandfather’s abilities were always on display. Grandpa (as we simply called him) was an instrument mechanic and served in WWII as a radioman in Europe during the height of the war. Grandpa was so great at repairing and reworking the insides of so many machines, to the untrained eye his latest project on the bench was unrecognizable.
He retired from a local nuclear plant when I was young. His shoes must have been difficult to fill! All over our small town, Grandpa left his signature. Whether it was fixing a wall mounted telephone, rewiring something in a home, or just troubleshooting why a neighbor’s vacuum cleaner wasn’t working, he saved people money and kept a sentimental appliance going. Retirement was grand.
My grandpa wasn’t just an “old guy.” He was born in the depression, survived a war and raised children and grandchildren without the influence of internet and social media.
I just can’t imagine what my Grandpa would think of our culture now.