The guy was huge, a moving mountain of meat, most of it muscle. Slow to anger, and a pretty terrifying spectacle when he'd had enough. He was self-educated, very successful. He came from a background that would fit anybody's description of savage, and was a Navy pilot back in the Right Stuff days. I think his psyche was a perpetual battleground between an intellect that valued peace and cooperation, and experience that taught him some people understand nothing but force. His politics were neanderthal, but he was sincere about them. I thought he had been sold a lot of hogwash, but that's ok, he thought the same of my views. He was a great storyteller, a prodigious liar (no clear distinction). He taught certain things by example:

-Nobody ever lost a night's sleep over having been too merciful or too generous; -Money is an important thing. It is not the important thing; -You have no more precious possession, and none more easily lost, than your reputation for integrity; -Real men are gentle; physical strength (or any other advantage) is yours on a custodial basis -- it's yours to use for service to others; -Real men do not use others sexually; -The first person to raise his voice has lost;

A couple of proverbs and favorite expressions: "On your feet, soldier." "Don't complain. Don't explain. Pull up your socks and wipe your nose." "Take good care of your tools, and your tools will take good care of you." "Don't let the little head do the thinking for the big head."

I too have -- and use -- my great-grandad's tools. These reflections, and the "Mom" thread would make a pretty little anthology.

Adam