My grandfather passed away in February (obituary). He was 89 years old, and my last remaining grandparent. Adrian and I attended the funeral together, an experience he handled well.
I am the youngest of nineteen grandchildren, and we’ve all at some point worked with—really, for—Granddaddy. I think I started around age twelve, working 8AM to 5PM, in the Texas summer heat. Grandaddy had a lot going on. He operated horse stables on his property near Lancaster. He took contracts for landfill, accepting dirt and asphalt from various construction projects and using it to fill in property he rented. I remember this work the most.
My cousin, Ron, and I usually worked together. I was responsible for telling the trucks where to dump and collecting payment. Ron had the more fun task of operating the bulldozer to fill in areas and level off the surface. I was always afraid of going too far to the edge and falling over, so I got demoted, I guess. Still, we had a good time hanging out. The downtimes were the best. We’d just find some shade and relax.
I also worked at the stables. Fortunately, I didn’t have to deal with horses. Unfortunately, I was responsible for painting. The stables, stalls, were custom built by my grandfather out of metal pipes, rebar, and sheet metal. That may sound flimsy, but they are still standing 25 years later! My job was to paint the stalls. This required grinding the rust from the pipes and every bit of the rebar, which is quite tedious. I did not make the mistake of wearing short sleeves on the second day. All told, I grinded, sanded, and painted about a dozen stalls over about two weeks in what felt like the hottest August.
On the “best” days we simply mowed the yard. It was just a few acres.
We were only paid $25 per day, and lunch was not included! I’ve never worked harder for three bucks an hour.
Transport was included, thankfully. We’d meet at his house and hop into the old Suburban. The back was filled with various tools, so it was a noisy ride. After the Suburban died, we squeezed into his yellow C4 Corvette! If you are keeping track, there were three of us and only two seats. Being the youngest, I was the one who stretched through the center of the seats and laid under the glass canopy. This was not comfortable, but I survived.
I didn’t always love the work, and I hope to never do it again, but I gained a strong work ethic and learned to do the job right the first time. I pushed my physical limits while working with Grandaddy long before I learned to push my mental and emotional limits at MIT.
He also taught me about education in his own way…and piracy. I recall he checked out VHS tapes from the library for a kids phonics program. One of my jobs was to duplicate them. I never saw him watch them, but my assumption all these years is that he was teaching himself to be a better reader.
Grandaddy was also a technologist in his own way. He had WebTV in his office, which was both cool and ridiculously expensive since you paid by the minute!
He was an inventor, a mechanic, and many things. Above all he was a provider for six children, nineteen grandchildren, and more great-grandchildren than I can remember. I’ll miss him, but will forever cherish our time together and the lessons learned.