It’s not that he’s my grandfather. He’s a legend, and I wish that more people knew he existed before his time comes. In 8th grade, it was an English assignment to write a biography about a family member. It turned out that, at that time, I’d only known a fraction of my grandfather’s escapades. He used to tell me things like how he and his fighter pilot buddies would just hop in a jet and blast off to Argentina for a certain brand of Pistachio nuts …before flying to Spain to eat them at a bull fight. In my youth, I thought is was another tall tale told by a typical grandfather.
Those were not tall tales.
At the age of 17, he ran away from home and joined the Canadian Air Force. The US age minimum was 18 and he could not wait. He married soon, and his wife eventually gave him seven children. He joined the US Air Force years later and it became his glory days. He reached the colonel ranking, not before seeing some conflicts he survived and many did not, remarried, had 2 more kids, finished serving the military and became the manager of an oil company (forget his official title, but it was “nice suit” worthy). Then he remarried AGAIN, had two more kids, retired with wealth, became a crop-dusting pilot for funsies, and watched his family grow, ever in support of each and every one of them, until he could physically no longer work.
That’s the short-hand of it. If you want stories, well, none of them are tall tales, but they’re still all a little too crazy for mortal men to comprehend…
I love my grandfather. You would probably love him too.
Why yes, this post had no real reason to be written.