My father's father was a tall, straight, black-eyed Scots-Sioux who ran a hunting lodge on the UP of Michigan and worked on the railroad. He was a bit stern and scary and not very grandfatherly. I have old photos of him from his college days, around 1910-12, and he was as handsome a devil as ever lived, all suited out for football looking quite dashing. He married several times and each wife got progessively worse. My mother's father died before I was born, but how I wish I had known him. He was by all accounts an accomplished musician, self taught, a coal miner by day and a superb singer and guitar player by night. He was my mom's refuge from an emotionally, physically and mentally abusive mother in the days when everyone turned a blind eye. He died of black lung in 1952.