It was March of 1968. I had flown from Davisville Rhode Island to Oakland California where we had a lay over for repairs. I called home, Tacoma, Washington and got to talk to my Mom only to find out my Grandma Wolfe had died that day. But this is not about my Grandma but my Grandpa. You see my grandma had a stroke 2 years earlier and when it was all said and done my Grandpa took her home to Monmouth, Oregon and put her into bed. All she had was the use of her left arm and hand. My Grandpa fed her, bathed her, changed her bedding, combed her hair and every other thing she needed. He also had 29 acres of old farm to take care of so he even rigged up an old car horn to a 12 volt battery and a switch she could push to alert him she needed help. In this day and age of “what have you done for me lately” my Grandpa really showed us what “till death do us part really means”. I will never forget that old California improved Pennsylvania Dutch man from Kansas. I hung up the phone and boarded the plane to continue on to Da Nang, So Viet Nam.
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