I Remember

I remember my brother challenging my grandfather to a foot race. They were neck and neck for most of the race, but my grandfather pulled his groin slightly because he didn’t stretch. It was pretty cool seeing him book down the street at the age of 76.

I remember when my grandfather used to tell us this story about how he heroically climbed out onto the wing of a B-52 bomber to fix the engine. While out on the wing, he was shot in the rear end by none other than the Red Baron. He didn’t need a story like this because he was already heroic to me, he still is.

I remember my grandfather filling up unused plastic garbage cans with water for my brother and I to play in.