May 8, 1967; 2004

May 8 is one of those days. It causes me to pause and reflect because on this day I lost two great influences in my life. On May 8, 1967, my Grandfather Arles Garloch died. A World War I veteran, I sat at his feet as he told the stories of the long hikes that ended up causing him to have flat feet. I heard the story of how he stood in Woodrow Wilson's ear on Thanksgiving Day. (Thousands of soldiers from Camp Sherman were arranged to form a likeness of the president. The picture of it was rated as one of Life Magazine's 100 Top photos of the century. My letter to the editor was printed in a subsequent edition. My {less than} fifteen minutes of fame.) He survived the Great Depression, but he couldn't survive the lung cancer and black lung disease (he was a coal miner) that he contracted. I loved his laugh. I loved his attitude towards life. I loved his wife.
On May 8, 2004 my father-in-law, Allwyn Hart, passed from this life. He was one of the most generous men I have ever known. He certainly wasn't rich in material things. But he showed me the wealth that comes from friendship, the riches of a job well done, and the sheer enjoyment of being friendly. It was sad to see him in his last days because the stroke he had caused his personality to change. When faced with his death, I asked my wife how she would handle his ultimate demise. She responded, "My Daddy died several years ago." It's true. He just wasn't the same. The spring in his step, the twinkle in his eye, his boistrous voice, it just wasn't there anymore.
I've been very fortunate in my life to rub shoulders with people who are much greater than I. I'm grateful for the oppporunity to have such people not only in my family, but in my life. I celebrate this day because their future was secure and they are enjoying their rewards as we speak. They're waiting for me right now. And I'll try not to disappoint them. Have a great day. Thank you, Granddad! Thank you, Allwyn! JW