Grandpa taught me to ski, to drive, and to be a man. He showed me how to be frugal and how to invest. He took me in at age fourteen and raised me in his elder years. Then he did it again and again with my younger brothers.
His whole life revolved around his grandkids, his son, and especially my grandmother.
He was the most stubborn man I’ve ever known. We butted heads many times.
He built his house with his own hands and his family’s help. His mountain cabin is where our family went to swim, hike, ski, and play.
He believed in being fair to people and honoring your word. He was honest to a fault. He was old school in every way.
We played checkers until I beat him, then played me chess until I beat him once. We never played again.
He was an Air Force pilot, an airline captain, a successful investor in real estate and stocks, and my hero growing up.
“Joel, I have a bone to pick with you” meant I was about to have to sit down and listen to an hour long lecture. I loved to argue back and even drove him to challenge me to a fistfight several times. I knew that meant I had pushed too far and had to shut up and listen.
He was an adventurer who traveled everywhere. Africa, Asia, Europe, he had been everywhere.
We had countless long drives to the cabin or to his rentals together where he taught me his views on life. He was seldom wrong.
He was a full time caregiver for my grandmother far past when anyone else would have, or should have, given up. Once that changed, his health rapidly fell apart.
I had my hand on his bare chest and felt his last heartbeats when he died at age 89 tonight.