Grandpa Gant

I didn't ever get the chance to meet my Dad's Dad.

I do know a couple things about him, though.

One: He was shot in the side during WWII. The bullet traveled through his backpack, the pot of beans that would have been his lunch, and his body before exiting out his front.

Two: His job in the military meant that the Gant family had to move around-- a lot. One of my Dad's brothers was born in Germany. The family lived in the Philippines for awhile. My Dad, the youngest, actually got the best deal of the bunch, and lived in Oklahoma for all of junior high and high school.

Three: He died when my Dad was 23. That's not much older than me now. I can't imagine.

Four: He looks dashing in these photos. I love old photos.

My favorite of the bunch is the shot of him in Korea, overlooking the rolling hills. He looks morosely contemplative. What was he thinking of? His family? The war? Was he weary or invigorated? Hungry or full? Ready to face the challenges undoubtedly presented to him or not?

I write this blog (occasionally, I do admit) so my grandchildren can someday know what I was thinking.

I think my Grammy Gant looks especially beautiful in this picture.