History Lessons from Granddad

My love of history began on the front porch of Grandma and Granddads home in a small town in Western Pennsylvania called Williamsburg. When we came to visit while growing up, I was Granddad’s shadow. One thing he did (you can tell it was many years ago), he smoked his pipe while sitting on the front porch.

While he rocked in the rocking chair, he smoked his pipe. I sat there talking with him. I don’t know when we started talking history. I’m sure up until 8 or 9, it was about Westerns. I’m sure we talked about dad’s service in World War II in England with the US Army Air Force and my uncle Calvin in the Navy over in the South Pacific. My aunt Francis’ husband also served in the Navy in the Pacific.

What was memorable, we talked about the Civil War. Over the next ten years, our history talks were important. He taught school one year after attending college. The big plant (ok, the only plant) in Williamsburg was the West Virginia Pulp and Paper Company’s paper mill and he worked there all his adult life until his retirement in 1948. With a wife and growing family, the money from the paper mill was probably greater than as a schoolteacher.

Granddad and I also loved to play checkers. Funny, I could beat granddad. Then one time, dad had to butt in. He loved beating me. Then granddad told dad, they’d play. I can remember amazed that I could beat granddad. Dad could beat me. Granddad could beat dad. For granddad and me, winning at checkers was not the issue. For granddad, it was teaching me to play the game. For me, it was learning from granddad.