Pop and Granddaddy

The last of Grandparents passed away this week. My paternal Grandfather was 90. His wife (my Grandmother) passed at the beginning of March this year. It has been a tough month to be related to us. However my thoughts lately have centered around my memories and the their contributions to my life.

My Grandfathers were polar opposites. One a hard working cabinet maker and true craftsman. The other a college graduate who bought milk for sealtest dairy and spent his life in his words drinking coffee with every farmer in GA. Both were big hunters and outdoorsmen. Both were good to me and took me everywhere. My Mother’s father “Pop” was a big story teller. Now they might not be true. But they were big stories. He also loved to bird hunt. Until the wild quail in our beloved home state of Georgia disapeared about a quarter century ago he had dogs and a million acres to hunt. My Father’s father “Grandaddy” was almost exclusively a big game hunter. He loved guns and to deer and turkey hunt. He carried a small J frame Smith 357 or a Walther PPK 380 everywhere he went. He loved to collect and shoot guns. Fancy or odd. Didn’t matter. He just wanted to hunt with them and have them.

Both of them taught me different aspects of the things that govern my life today. Pop really taught me how to visit with people. He spent countless hours in countless farmers’ kitchens just talking. I learned that from him and have no problem today just stopping by to “visit” with clients. A few minutes or a few hours. Whatever they want and have time for. It has lead me to many many projects in my life. Grandaddy on the other hand taught me the value of hard work. He worked hard and he worked HIS way. There were two ways. His and the wrong way. In a lot of ways I am like that today with my business. I am proud of what I do and I want my projects to live up to MY expectations. Which are generally much higher than the client. While he taught me the value of hard work Pop taught me it could wait till after the hunt…

Grandaddy was a SeaBee that made the landings at Okinawa and Saipan. He talked once in my life about seeing the village women on Saipan carrying their children to the cliffs and jumping off. They beleived that the GI’s were going to eat them. That deeply affected him. Pop was an Army Aircorp electrician that worked on the Anola Gay before it droped the bomb. Whether or not he was much affected by antyhing to do with the war I am not sure. He had nice duty stations and stayed with my Grandmother thru most of the war until heading to Guam.

Yesterday morning I got up early and took Grandaddy’s old Weatherby 12 guage into the woods. We sat quietly listening to a turkey gobble and slowly playing with him for a bit. It was nice. He taught me how to call. How to hunt and how to shoot. Having his gun and a few calls of his with me made it a special morning. Thru my memories and the things he has passed down to me he is still there with me. Once a year or so I do the same thing with a sporterized 30-06 Springfield that Pop gave me. He shot 30 dear straight without a miss he claimed. Me I got to 21 without a miss then missed. Damn fine rifle that one. Damn fine. I had it refinished a few years ago and in my day dreams I look forward to passing that one and the Weatherby down to my grandson one day.

Grandaddy died this past Thursday morning early. There just are not that may of us left. My Dad, his brother, a few cousins and my family is it. Probably couldn’t fill a 15 passenger van these days with us. The Quintrell’s are a bit different. My Uncle and his wife had kids and one day that name wil continue on. Me I have 3 little girls and while I am as proud as can be of them right now my family line stops with me. One that has been in Atlanta since before the War of Northern Agression. We built Atlanta. Literally. My Great Grandfather was a superintendent for Beers Construction with Mr. Beers himself. Grandaddy built things that are in the Governor’s Mansion, the Swan House, and now in the Atlanta History Center.

It is the end of an era. Suddenly I find my self with no Grandaparents. No one to make a fuss over me and bake Angel Food cakes for my birthday (Grandmother), make coca-cola cake (Granny), visit over coffee with (Pop), or talk about guns and gobblers with (Grandaddy). They meant so much to me. They formed for the most part who I am today.

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