Grandpa was an elementary school janitor for most of his career, and loved it. He grew up during the Depression (people were already poor here, and used to doing for themselves.) He was the oldest son, and his father often had to travel far and wide to find work, so he was the man of the house.
Before his eyesight went he was an incredible shot. As a boy his mother would give him two 20 gauge shotgun shells and tell him he had better bring back at least 2 squirrels - preferrably 3. And he would.
Back when he could still hunt, he would never let a deer walk - buck, doe, or even Bambi with spots on his back and milk on his chin. I have known Grampa to to take home a 4" creek chub and fry it up. The many hates to waste or throw away anything - a trait that I inherited.
If you shot a deer and it was still kicking when you got to it, Grandpa wouldn't let you shoot it again - that would waste a bullet. One time when were kids we took a friend with us hunting - he was 12 or 13. He shot a deer through the hindquarters (that's all he saw of it). Instead of letting him shoot it again, Grandpa bashed it in the head with a rock repeated! (My brother says he was scarred for life.)
Grandpa is a tough, but tender old timer. When he was in his 50's, he could outrun all the kids on the playground and outwalk all the young bucks coon hunting. It is hard to see him so decrepit when I remember the days when he was Superman.
Most of what I know about the outdoors, I learned from my Dad. But most of what Dad knows, he learned from Grandpa. I hope Elijah is not just the fourth generation, but grows up to love the outdoors like his forefathers.




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